A Taste for Blackmail
by RenjiLuvah
Summary: Learning the ways of the streets and earning the trust of the Crime Lords would not prove to be an easy task, even with the Championship as her trophy. Some valuable leverage may help her earn the trust of one deadly man, willingly or not. \\RazerxRayn//
1. Chapter 1 : Leverage

**Self Beta polish done on this chap Dec. 2008.**

**Rated M because well it's Razer for Mar's sakes and they have bloody nasty mouths. ^^ Some hints of sexual content later and adult themes.**

***Scheisse = 'shit' in German**

**Sorry the title isn't all that great. I had a hard time thinking of one.**

**Enjoy.**

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**Chapter 1**

"Hello Rayn, dear, I'm sure you are just _delighted_ upon me leaving you my diary in my will. Here you will have access to all my unfinished plans and whereabouts on all the Krew assets. So, don't you worry eh, your good old father will make sure that you're a Crime Lord in no time."

Rayn leaned her chin lazily in her palm as she stared up at the hologram image of her father. He wasn't her _real_ father. She guessed even a man such as him could grow lonely seeing that he probably was unable to attract a woman for company, so he adopted her instead.

Although she loved him as a daughter should love their father, she couldn't deny his despicable personality to match the rest of him. Still, through constructing plans with his greedy stubby hands full of orbs that his goons made for him, he still made sure to save the time to send her whatever she had wanted growing up. That's how he had sent her to a boarding school overseas most of her years - that's where the accent came from.

Even though boarding school was supposed to benefit her and take her away from the crime-infested streets, she only found herself in more trouble - just in a different country. Many of the girls were roughhouse types and through envy of the money they all _knew_ she had, it was fairly easy for her to be picked as a target. They didn't get very far though, as she soon learned her way with sly words and negotiations, the very beginning traits that rubbed on her from her father.

Business to keep you alive and dangerously rich - that was how they lived.

Yet, with her father now gone, she was left behind his unfinished catastrophes to complete for him to ensure that the Krew powers did not perish as well as their wealth. She needed to keep stable control of Haven and the underground crime running behind blind eyes through several cities. Their business needed to expand and the few men that stood faithful to the Krew Dynasty even after his mysterious death wasn't enough. Father was too soft and it resulted in his fall. Somehow she knew she needed to change that attitude, but being new to taking over for her father, her control was already wavering.

Being so young and being a woman didn't help at all either. She didn't look or sound very intimidating and even though she had plenty of father's associates to help do her bidding, it was still going to be difficult to gain the trust of Mizo's goons along with the other Crime Lords. The race was already turning out pretty well with her father's poison plan on Jak's crew so the championship was probably as good as in their hands.

What worried her were the things that no one else could do for her. Money wouldn't help her and without anyone to really trust, it would be hard to get the guts to walk on into the Bloody Hook and say she was taking over the joint after Mizo would be dealt with.

Her eyes rolled at the thought of every thug laughing their behinds off at the British woman demanding power and what startled her the most was if they'd throw some knives at her afterwards. After all, she _was_ their enemy - for now.

She needed to find a way to be the boss and have them be faithful to her. It would be hard. She wasn't looking forward to it.

Suddenly the vibration of her cell phone inside of her jacket shook her from her daze. She looked around twice in her private lounge area, habit, before she calmly flipped the phone open to her ear.

"Yes?"

"Boss, we just received news that Jak's car was sabotaged during the last race. He still managed to win, but this could be troublesome. We suspect that it's Mizo's driver Razer, due to the fact that he suffered a loss by us in the last round."

"I see, well as long as we won the race, all is fine. I'm sure Jak's _little_ mechanic is checking it out anyway, but feel free to give them a hand."

"Yes ma'am, right away."

The line was cut and she put the phone back in her pocket. Staring around the large room, topped with traditional moldings along the high ceilings and elegant wallpaper, the beauty of the room didn't ease her mind. This room would light up the eyes of any commoner, but since she was used to this kind of luxury, it wasn't nice to look at anymore. She stretched her arms out and yawned rather uncomfortably and unladylike. The heavy wooden chair just seemed to make her bones ache.

"Damn it, what's the point of having such expensive bloody chairs if they don't feel right?"

She groaned to herself, shaking her head at the mess that she was now drowning in and couldn't get out of. It was enough that Mizo's true identity was still unclear despite her constant efforts and Haven's governor always had her guns at her face, now she had to deal with all her other problems.

"Oh, father why? Why couldn't you have adopted a sibling to offer me a hand? Perhaps, a brother would've been of some use."

With her hopeless face still buried in her hand, she reached out to press the data pad onto the continuation of that diary entry.

"Now sweetie, I know you're probably having a bit of trouble. Well, I have just the man we can use and I'm sure with the leverage I'm about to give you; you can persuade him easily, eh? I did some research so I know some of his weaknesses and I'm sure with such a wonderful face such as yours, it shouldn't be too hard."

_Oh, no father, what will you have me do now?_

"You have to be a bit careful around him, eh? I hear he's very deadly if you press his buttons the wrong way, but don't worry about that right now. He fancies the races, good wine and women along with a side of blood lust. He goes by the name of Razer and you could usually find him by that shabby old bar, what is it? The Bloody Hook…"

The rest of his words were drowned out as Rayn's eyes widened in shock. Her palms slammed onto the heavy long meeting table.

"Father, I would never! That man is out to kill us! Jak just left him in the dust in the last race and now I'm supposed to negotiate with him? Really, _what _are you thinking?"

She rewinded the part she had missed because of her brief fit and listened on. Maybe this leverage would be helpful after all.

"Now if I'm not mistaken, he is Mizo's best henchman as well as racer. No one knows the tracks and the Kras City streets better than this man and I'm sure you have already crossed paths with him through the races-"

"Hmmph, _paths_. More like life and death…"

"I know he seems a bit - dangerous to meddle with, but I'm sure he will be the key to expanding the Krew Dynasty and no one else can do it except for none other than heir to me."

"Wonderful daddy, I feel so happy to have been nominated."

"Now as for that little bit of juicy leverage. I know you have always been fond of blackmail. Like father like daughter, eh? So, listen carefully…"

_Now this…this had to be good._

* * *

Screeching tires announced her arrival as she parked her combat car in front of the Bloody Hook. It didn't seem to attract _too_ much attention seeing that the sound was a familiar one around these parts. She didn't bother to change into her racing gear once she had reviewed the rest of that particular diary entry and figured the sooner she got it over with, the better.

Her slender leg stepping out from the car revealing a bit of creamy tinted flesh through the slit of her skirt seemed to arouse some men from their dazes though. Great. She needed to get these men to look at her like a menacing authority figure, not a sex object. Now here she was, stepping out into a hungry pack of hound dogs and she was the medium rare sirloin topped in A-1 steak sauce.

She tried not to cringe in disgust as she brought her other leg over and hoisted herself up out of the car. She straightened her skirt, ignoring the drooling sneers of the few thugs outside and trying to keep her tough demeanor.

Her shoulders stiffened and her brows furrowed in determination. She was ready to do this. She knew she had to do this alone. She just wished father hadn't recommended her going there during the night. He said there was a higher chance that she'd find him there but still, the darkness of the night hovering over a bar full of drunken criminals did not boost her confidence in completing this task.

_Leverage. You have leverage. He can't touch you once you show him what you know._

She repeated the haunting mantra over and over in her head, reminding herself that she was perfectly safe from any groping hands and flying knives once she used the bit of information that her father provided her against Razer. This had to work. If it didn't, then the last heir to the Krew Dynasty would fall just as her father did. No…She refused to let that happen.

Clenching her fists, she slammed the doors open to the bar. The clatter of breaking glass bottles and grunts of laughter came to a halt at the new presence. Her eyes strained to stay open with the vapors of cigarette smoke clouding her vision. It was hard not to cough and tear at the disgusting smells surrounding the place, not that she had never been exposed to such odors before.

Scanning over the place with her eyes, she didn't spot the man she was looking for. She couldn't give up though, now that she was this far. A familiar orange haired man caught her eye sitting at the bar with a large mug foaming over in golden liquid. She felt the intensity of the eyes following her figure as her heels clicked on the wooden floor, walking towards Shiv.

Hands balled up and resting on her hips she stopped behind him. "I need to find Razer and I demand you to take me to him now."

Shiv almost spit out the beer in his cheeks before he chugged the mouthful down his throat with a cocky grin. His ripped ears and strange tattoo over his eye didn't seem to make him look any friendlier.

Slowly he spun around. He set aside his mug, glancing over her body before bringing his approving gaze back to her face.

"I think you're in the wrong place to be demanding things like that, little lady. You could get hurt."

She tried not to choke on the lump forming in her throat. Great. Already she was making a fool of herself. Eyes were still on her, grinning at the way she stomped her demands in the middle of a crowd of her enemies.

"Not according to my information. I'm in the right place, thank you very much, and if you don't want any more trouble, I suggest you keep your conniving threats to yourself before-."

His scoffed another laugh as he gulped down the last of his beer and stood up in front of her. "Or else what?"

His grin only made her want to scratch it right off his mouth. Disgusting.

"Mizo won't be in power long and soon enough, I'll be taking over this city. I'd watch myself if I were you."

With that, all the men in the bar laughed along with Shiv, just as she had imagined. Even the few women tattooed and missing teeth laughed at her as well. The only thing she needed was the knives. Please…no knives.

"So, let me get this straight. You think you can just walk up in here and order us around when Mizo's still alive with a death warrant wearing your name on it?"

She was speechless. She was running out of those tough words she replayed in her mind. The leverage she had was only for Razer so what could she use on these guys?

Hopeless. Hopeless and fatal.

Shiv's damp arm, perspiring through his shirt draped over her shoulder before she smelled his hot liquor coated breath near her face.

"I'll tell you what, Krew's girl. You come to the back with me and maybe I'll tell you what you need to know after a little - _persuasion_"

Rayn's eyes widened at the realization of what this "persuasion" was. Precursors, she'd rather die than have to go to the back with this- this pompous, smelly fool.

She threw his hand off of her before somehow getting the guts to spit at his face. Just as soon as the spit flew from her lips, her eyes widened and she instantly regretted it.

Bad move. Very bad move.

Shiv wiped the spit from his cheek, an angry expression evident on his face. "Now, you listen here. You're going to pay for that and you don't have your little Eco friend to come and save you this time."

All she heard was his knuckles begin to crack as she slowly backed away from him. She knew she wouldn't be able to reach the doors on time. There were too many men to outrun. Right now they all looked mighty angry with her.

Her eyes winced, preparing herself for what would happen next until two strong hands harshly pulled on her shoulders. She gasped in surprise and fear as the stranger hoisted her up over his shoulder and out the back door of the bar.

_So much for doing a better job than my father…_

* * *

She pictured a nice strong gentleman was nice enough to save her from hells wrath and would carry her to safety or maybe it was Jak making his perfectly timed hero appearances. Then the thugs would follow and he'd protect her while they all got their behinds kicked. That would prove she wasn't to be messed with. She couldn't have been more wrong.

There was no charming hero or safe guide back to her vehicle. Instead, she felt the cold bricks of the back alleyway meet up with her shoulder blades with a hard and painful thud.

"*Scheisse! What do you think you're doing you stupid wench?"

His thin lips curled in disgust and his hot nicotine breath burned her eyes. Her eyes stood wide up at her err…rescuer and her lips were sealed with stunned silence. Wait, did he just call her a stupid-

"Stupid wench! I went in there to discuss some business and in search of you, you cocky bastard!"

He gave her shoulders a light thrust back into the wall before he released her. Pale fingers ran through his shiny, sleek, black hair. It was dark in the alley and a bit hard to see, but by the red and blue trench coat and his sharp words, she knew it was him.

Leaning against the wall beside her, she saw his eyes glow against the orange light from his cigarette. Placing the lighter back in his front pocket and inhaling his fix deeply, he pulled the cigarette away from his lips. He offered her the cigarette tucked behind his ear, but the cringe of her lips answered and provoked a side smile on the man as he smugly put it back behind his ear.

"What business do you have here with me? In case you haven't noticed, we're not on the same side, my dear."

First she was a wench, now she was my dear. What a way with words this man had.

Clearing her throat and fixing her skirt, she managed to look powerful again despite the previous embarrassment.

"As you can already tell, my team is only getting closer to winning the Grand Prix for the Championship. I can already see your frustration with Jak's car being sabotaged earlier this afternoon-."

Razer's soft laughter cut her off. "Hmm, hmm, you think that I did that? Sorry to burst your bubble, but that wasn't me. I have a rather- more _confronting_ way of killing my enemies."

He twirled the cigarette in his fingers like a plaything as she gulped nervously. That must've been what their lives were to him - playthings.

"Y-you didn't then- then who did?"

Razer stood quiet. After a long moment, Rayn cleared her throat loudly.

"I'm asking you who _did_ do it, Razer?"

Within the blink of an eye, his cigarette was rolling onto the concrete and his body was in front of hers, arms straddling her against the wall. The back of her head pressed against the wall, her dark grayish blue hair slowly unwinding from its neat braided bun on top of her head.

"Watch how you say things to me. You're lucky you're even here in one piece. The only way you can walk in and out of this bar unharmed is if you're one of the racers or you're here to serve - _other_ purposes."

Rayn gave him a confused look and he turned to eye a group of women deeper into the alleyway. Dressed in revealing, leathery clothing and far too much makeup, they smoked their cigarettes. One of the women with big puffy red hair noticed Razer's eye on them and blew him a kiss, earning giggles from the rest.

Prostitutes…

"Now I'm sure you don't want to be in that position so if I were you, I'd mind my manners, especially around me. I may have been inclined to pull you out of the bar, but that can be easily reversed."

"Why _were_ you inclined to pull me out of there, Razer? Why didn't you just take part with them?" There she goes again, using his name _that_ way and pushing her limits.

He was silent before pulling away again, "I guess you could say, I have a weakness for women. As far as taking part, it's not in my ways. If I'm going to have a woman, it's because she wants me. I deal with my women and my enemies quite differently."

"But I _am_ you're enemy."

"Are you sure it's wise to present that fact after what I just said. Take advantage of my charm before it runs dry, hmm, hmm."

She stomped on the ground, remembering her whole purpose for coming out here in the first place. "Listen, I'd like to make a negotiation with you if you will."

"Intriguing…go on," his foot snuffed out the cigarette he had dropped earlier as he listened.

"With Mizo's rule over this city coming to an end, I was thinking it would be in your benefit to join me now and help me finish him off sooner. We all know he's going to fall eventually."

Razer cracked an arrogant smile, revealing his perfectly straight white teeth. How they were so white with his oral fixation on nicotine was a mystery.

"Don't be so sure. And what makes you think that joining forces with you would prove beneficial to me? You can't even walk in and out of the bar by yourself and you believe that I would see some benefit in siding with you? Pardon me, but I'd rather be unemployed after Mizo's demise."

"That's just it. We can help one another. All you know is a life of crime and we can both rise to power together by combining our intelligence."

Razer said nothing as he turned his back to her, walking away with a wave. She ran after him. She had no choice. She had to use it. The leverage.

"Razer I know! I know what Mizo has on you! I know what he had taken from yo-"

When her father said that this inside information was going to undoubtly persuade Razer on her side and keep her safe from his harm, he must've been kidding. It must've been a joke he failed to mention later in his entry. This so-called leverage did nothing, but piss him off.

"Be grateful that I pulled you out of the bar, but don't think that because I fancy women that I won't put my knife against your throat for prying into business that isn't your own! You want to take over these streets and you can't even survive in them. You have a lot to learn, Krew, a lot to learn…"

He lashed the last of his words at her as he continued to walk away from her. She watched, trembling and stunned at his words spat out at her. His figure vanished into the city streets and she decided it would be wise to follow instead of standing helplessly in a dark alley accompanied by prostitutes.

By the time she had ran to the front of the bar, he was gone. Without another moment of hesitation she jumped into the safety of her vehicle.

She shook her head as she drove away in defeat. Father was right about this man. He was cold and dangerously deadly when meddled with the wrong way. However she couldn't give up yet. She knew it would be difficult to convince him, but still there had to be a way.

There had to be a way to bring him to her side, whether by choice or by force.

* * *

**Oooh Razer's a bit mean but what can you expect from such a dangerous guy such as himself. Gotta love him. So will Rayn be able to convince him to side with her? What's this leverage of hers about what Mizo has on him? Stay tuned to find out.**


	2. Chapter 2 : Smokin'

**Thanks for welcoming me back guys! It means alot to me**

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**Chapter 2**

Rayn groaned as she buried her head heavily into her palms. She didn't get much sleep because of the unfortunate experience she had last night. Taking over the city and leading a bunch of brainless beer drinking muscle heads were not going to be an easy task. She shuddered at the thought of having to walk into the Bloody Hook in leather and puffy hair just to get them to show her some sort of kindness. Scary thought.

"Some wine madam?"

She shook her head and waved her servant away.

She was running out of ideas and frankly, running out of patience. The only thing that helped to highlight her slowly crumbling life was Jak's winning streak in the races. Jak had sent word to her this morning about the explosives on his car being the same ones used to kill Blitz's father. Blitz refused to help them. She thought that was too strange to let go so she already sent some of her men to go and investigate why. She couldn't help but feel Blitz was related to this one way or another, related to Mizo the biggest Crime Lord in Kras.

Although the races were getting somewhere, her plans for swooning over her enemies with her convincing words of promise were utterly failing. To only think that there was less than two months before the end of the races and if she didn't straighten up, some other Crime Lord would take over in her stead once Mizo was gone. She couldn't let that happen. The Krew family was already right under Mizo in power but with the way things were, that could easily be changed.

Elbows resting on her mahogany desk, she began to massage her temples. As she watched the replay of that entry from her father when she came back from the bar last night, she couldn't contain the urge to throw random objects through his hologram, father or not. His little leverage plan didn't work and that's probably why he didn't last very long. It almost got a knife to her throat for being nosey. Now she knew better.

Singing birds led her eyes to the window as she lost herself in her daze. There was nothing to do but worry and she was tired of doing it. She also found herself rather…lonely at times in such a fancy and large condo such as this one. No matter which Krew property she would visit, none seemed to make her feel quite at home. She'd rather have been living in the bad side of Haven in her father's bar.

Somehow she stirred up the will to flip open her cell phone and make a call.

"Yes, the meeting is still on. Mmm hmm. Good. I'll be there"

Short but straight to the point. Even though things seemed downhill, she always had the ambition to keep going. Maybe that was what had taken her this far.

"Here we go," she huffed out in a breath before she got up from her heavy wooden chair. She rotated her shoulders back with a crack and began walking out of the office. She needed a tough face to show at the meeting. It was her first meeting with the Crime Lords, excluding Mizo in which they were all trying to overthrow, since the races began.

She would need all the luck she could get. If she couldn't win over his goons yet, she'd at least work on the bigger fish to fry. Maybe finding out Mizo's identity and defeating him in the races would be enough to win his goons over anyway.

Somehow she thought that when it came to Razer, it wouldn't work that way. He wouldn't work for someone simply because of the change of authority.

Her fists clenched at the image of his smug face from last night. As much as he irritated her, he was absolutely one of the most valuable pawns in the business and she needed him to side with her. His skills were enough to replace half of Mizo's goons because she knew none could match up to him. That's why no one in the bar dared to question him when he hoisted her out of there before.

It was almost as if he was the boss instead of Mizo although only she knew the true story behind that. Thanks to her father, she knew the truth. She needed to take that truth and use it to her advantage. She needed to meddle with it, Razer's hate for Mizo.

For now, she'd worry about that meeting.

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"What!" Her palms hit the round table in protest as she stared around at the rest of the seats. They were occupied with at least seven men in suits, mostly middle aged to elderly. One of the men spoke up.

Middle aged, brunette and had a curly mustache hiding his slick devious smile. He seemed to find it amusing that she was so easily disturbed by his words. Maybe he was into that sort of thing. Lucien, she was already learning to become disgusted with that name.

"I said, what makes you think that you may be fit to take over this city after Mizo's demise"

All the other men grunted in agreement and she shook her head. "Fit? Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It seems that you are… lacking in some things"

Now she couldn't help but cringe at the insult. "Lacking eh? You mean like you're lacking in the funds to provide you with the rule over this city even if you wanted to take my place?"

A satisfied grin was placed on his face instead of anger. She was sure she had hit one of his weaknesses and he didn't even flinch the slightest bit.

"I can obtain the funds…soon enough"

Before she could throw another comeback at him, another man spoke. So very calm, all of them. This angered her even more.

"The Krew Dynasty doesn't seem stable. We may have to rethink our dependence on you or Mizo's end may never come"

"Rethink your depende-," she cleared her throat in an effort to keep calm. "My team is the one winning all the races here in case you haven't noticed".

"Yes, yes we have noticed. However it doesn't do any good if Mizo will not come out or if his identity is not revealed. He'll just fight back and rebuild"

"No he won't. We will have him destroyed completely," she was sure of herself. At least she was trying to sound this way.

"How? Have you even gotten the slightest clue as to who Mizo really is?"

Her mouth hung open in hesitation, searching for words to spill out of it. It was true. Although she had sent out her spies to pick up any piece of dirt they could find, Mizo was very good at hiding. They were still unable to figure it out. It seemed that none of his bar drunken goons ever went anywhere but their own homes, the tracks and the Bloody Hook. None had ever had any contact with any man strangely particular or traveled anywhere suspicious. There was no trace of that damn man anywhere.

"Well I- we-"

"Enough said, we're running out of time right now and these meetings must be held briefly and secretively. We can discuss this at another time along with other _options_"

Funny how when he said _options_, he glared right at her. All the men nodded before they stood up from their chairs and walked out through the thick metal doors in silence. No one knew the other's destination or plans once outside those doors and outside the warehouse.

They were all enemies outside the warehouse but it was only Mizo's power that brought such enemies together in a plan to bring him down. He was taking their men, by recruit or by death, taking over their businesses and leeching their money dry. He was destroying the rest of them bit by bit and somehow they needed to get rid of him.

After being left in the room alone, she banged her fists on the now empty round table.

"Damn it Mizo, I swear by my father's death I will find you"

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After a few minutes of tending to her private tantrum she opened the doors outside the warehouse. It was on the outskirts of Kras City and there were many others like this near other cities depending on wherever the other races were held. This was where they held their meetings. This was where they'd part and act as if nothing ever happened.

However right now, she couldn't act as if nothing ever happened. Inside her head, she was screeching from the top of her lungs hoping that some fluke of Mar would rescue her from her misery.

Maybe the scream in her mind was so loud and so disturbing, it was somehow heard.

"Having a hard time I see"

The voice made her almost jump from her shoes. She spun her head to the empty deserted grasslands outside the warehouse only to see nothing. Finally she turned back around to face the warehouse. There he was wearing that smug grin again. This man was like the devil and it seemed that he knew. He knew it all too well.

"I'm in no such mood to deal with you right now," she spat at him in anger. She was so angry she didn't care how her words sounded to him. She didn't care if they might provoke him or strike him as being rebellious. Right now a knife to her throat sounded pleasant, anything to put her out of this torture.

Razer shrugged his shoulders and smiled again. What was it about men that they found her so amusing when she wanted to kill something, when she was so pissed off? What was so funny to them?

As he was about to raise a cigarette to his lips she began to walk towards him in a rush, obviously angry and most likely going to take it out on him. Not a wise choice but understandable.

Before his lighter could greets its white edge with a burn, her delicate fingers slipped between his hand holding the lighter and his fingers holding the cigarette. She quickly pulled it out from him, almost squeezing it in half. Almost like she wanted to break it but wouldn't risk breaking it if she knew what was good for her. These were Razer's fixes and those…you don't mess with.

She raised it to his view, shaking it violently, "This! This is a disgusting habit!"

Razer said nothing. He was trying not to laugh because of such a petite young woman such as herself acting like such a princess so furiously; it would make any man laugh. It was like a small girl stomping for some ice cream. He was sure it angered her more because she had no idea what she looked like to others. She had no idea why she was so amusing.

A princess, in such a world that only criminals knew of, there was no such thing. This was something she had not yet realized.

Seeing that he had no response, it seemed her angry energy drained away before she slumped back against the wall. She didn't care that the man next to her was her enemy, she didn't care that she was making herself very vulnerable right now. Nothing really mattered.

The cigarette was still in her hand unlit as she rested her head against the cold concrete wall of the warehouse. She stared ahead at her vehicle buried behind green shrubs almost forgetting that Razer was there. She hadn't even bothered to question why he was there talking to her but at the moment, she was a bit relieved to have someone, anyone there to keep her from going insane.

The black and crimson lighter to her face made her blink back into reality. She stared at the lighter dumbfounded and then back at Razer. He wasn't looking at her. Instead he inhaled on another cigarette that he must've lit when she dazed off as he offered her the lighter.

Hesitating at first, she cautiously brought her hand up to his and took the lighter from his hand. He let go only to bring his hand into his pocket as he smoked silently. She looked at him for some sort of facial expression but there was none.

Finally giving up and taking the risk, she brought the cigarette to press her red lips around. He eyed her from the corner of his eye, entertained by her attempting to smoke most likely for the first time in her life. Maybe she had been around smokers but had never really tried it herself. Inhaling it and actually smoking it were two different things.

_Let's see what you're capable of Krew's girl…_

The orange light against her sharp feminine eyes glowed attractively as she lit it. Her red lips staining the white on the cigarette tastefully. The way her fingers held it to her lips almost looked graceful until…until…

The cigarette fell to the floor as she threw it down in disgust. Tears welling up in her eyes as she hacked and coughed from inhaling such poisonous fumes into her lungs. This time Razer couldn't help but laugh.

_Very ladylike, very…_

"Disgusting- cough- horrib-," she wheezed as she inhaled sharply, finally realizing that Razer had the widest smile she'd ever seen on such a blood lusting man. It was a bit scary as well as severely embarrassing.

Finally she was able to contain herself and catch her breath, so was Razer. Her cheeks were redder than the lipstick she wore and he knew it had nothing to do with her loss of breath earlier. Women were such fragile things.

Razer opened his palm, the corner of his mouth stretched in amusement. She practically shoved the lighter back into his palm before he closed his fingers around it and placed it back in his pocket.

"Too bad…" was all he said as he went down the steps of the warehouse, walking away from her.

Her eyes widened with confusion. Too bad? What kind of thing was that to say? What was that supposed to mean? Somehow she couldn't help but feel that she missed something. Then it struck her. He must've looked down at her. That had to be it.

Full with another whim of determination, this one more confident than the one earlier when she first tried the cigarette she ran after him. Forcefully spinning him around to face her she pulled away the cigarette still damp from his lips and halfway smoked. She was tired of being underestimated.

_You think I don't have what it takes? I'll show you._

Before he could say or do anything to her she shoved his cigarette in her lips and inhaled, this time more relaxed and less rushed. His green eyes narrowed intensely on her, watching her. She paid him no mind as she closed her eyes, letting the warmness of the smoke smolder in her mouth and through her nostrils as she exhaled. It was a slight buzz when it traveled and lingered through her nose and lips. Now she understood just a bit why people tended to enjoy it so well, especially through times of stress.

She opened her eyes to meet his; intensely fixed on each other she took another try at it. It still made her eyes burn and it still tempted her lungs to cough but she made herself do it. She used all she had to hide it.

Razer didn't spit at her for taking his cigarette from him. He didn't pull a knife to her throat for touching him with such force. He didn't press her to the floor for over stepping her boundaries. Instead, a satisfied look became evident on his face.

"Guts. You may not have enough at times but its there"

Was that a compliment or an insult?

"Your ambition intrigues my curiosity…far too much to ignore"

Her eyes stood wide in surprise. No threats. No violence. No death. She was still here and he was…impressed?

She watched as he started heading around the warehouse, possibly to where he parked his vehicle in the back. Just as she was about to follow he raised a hand to stop her, a business card in his two fingers.

"Meet me at the bridge in Kras City tomorrow night. 3 AM"

"Three in the morning? But I-"

"No refusals. We're still enemies. We cannot be seen. Show up or never step within my personal bounds again"

She nodded even though he wasn't facing her to see it. She was sure he already knew she'd agree. The card flew to the ground behind him as he walked on, silently with a wave as he always did. After his figure had vanished and she was sure he heard the rumbles of his vehicle fading away from the back of the warehouse she moved forward to pick up his card.

It was plain white. Just a hand written phone number and that was all. Funny how it was just like him. Couldn't tell what he was thinking but at the same time he was straight to the point. Never said or did anything unnecessary.

It was then that she knew for sure, it really was her ambition that had gotten her that far. Now hopefully it would take her all the way to the winner's circle.

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Srry if this sounded like a commercial about peer pressure or smoking. Smoking is bad kids. Hope the scene was as intense as I hoped it would be. Hope you liked. 


	3. Chapter 3 : Wine for the Princess

**Sorry it took a bit but I wanted to make sure this went through Beta. Lotsa cookies to Luv2Game for beta-ing this chap for me. Thanks so much for all the specifics and sleep you sacrificed. It means a lot. **

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**Chapter 3**

"E-excuse me?" Rayn's fingers cupped over her mouth delicately as she tried to conceal the red spreading through her face. Still she couldn't hide the shock and her wide-open jaw from such a question.

"I said…have you ever been with a man before?"

Rayn cleared her throat uncomfortably as she leaned into the black leather sofa. Razer just sat there across from her in his recliner. No expression, no shame, he didn't seem to mind prying into her personal life at all.

The smirk on his face suddenly made her wish she had never met him on the bridge. It was strange enough that it was three in the morning. Maybe he had asked her to come so late for other reasons. Maybe he was looking for some sort of "payment" like Shiv was in the bar.

Looking at his calm face wouldn't give away anything but she was sure of one thing; If he really did have that kind of 'payment' in mind, she'd rather take over Kras herself. Better for her Dynasty to fall than her pride as a woman. Maybe she was brought up between the dirt of smuggling goods and involved with the most conniving of criminals but she still considered herself to be a lady.

She fixed her eyes on the glass coffee table between them, staring at the smoke spewing from the ashtray. How could she make herself disappear? It was too late now. Maybe this was a bad idea and she should have seen it coming with the way he went upon meeting her.

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"Get in"

Rayn looked around the deserted streets by the bridge. It was only Razer accompanied by another vehicle. The other man seemed to be another racer that she wasn't too familiar with.

"But what about my car?"

"Don't worry. Just get in. He'll keep watch of it until you return"

Rayn instantly looked over to the anonymous racer behind him. Missing teeth, tattoos and missing limbs. Not very trustworthy material.

"Don't worry, you're vehicle is in good hands"

She threw him a non-believing look. "I'm sure"

"It's true. Unless he doesn't value his life"

With that she saw the man's eyes widen fearfully at Razer's threatening words. Such power he had over people.

With that she got into his Havoc and they drove away, leaving her vehicle in some strange man's possession.

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She should've known better, she really should have. Now what had she gotten herself into. Being coaxed into this man's home just to be taken advantage of most likely, or worse.

Sensing the misunderstanding between them, Razer shifted more comfortably in his recliner before thinking of how to re-phrase himself. He'd almost forgotten whom he was dealing with. She would probably take these kinds of things too personally. She wasn't as blunt with things as he was.

"Ok, let me re-phrase this for you… What is it that men want?"

Rayn looked up at him, confused. She felt like he was a snake just waiting to wrap around her body and take advantage of her. Of course it may have all been in her imagination, but still. She fumbled with her fingers nervously, searching for the words to such intimidating questions. What the hell did a man's desires have anything to do with taking over Kras?

Now Razer seemed to be running out of patience.

"You're acting somewhat childish for a twenty year old woman"

Sudden anger flared in Rayn's amber eyes. "Childish? I am not childish!"

Razer only smiled as if to prove his already made point by her behavior.

"Not very childish but you can't even answer a few questions. I didn't agree to this for my health and I'd much rather be out on the tracks than wasting my time with a girl who can't answer questions about men. And you want to take over a city mostly full of criminals who happen to be men…amusing, very amusing"

Rayn clenched her fists at her sides as she stood up, "I don't think whether or not I've been with a man or what men want have anything to do with taking over this city"

Razer looked up at the furious woman before him. Her anger didn't ruffle his mood in any way and as much as he would never admit it, being here torturing her mind was far more fun than being at the tracks racing.

Razer sighed. He got up from the recliner to walk over to his fireplace. At the turn of a knob the wood lit up in warm orange waves. He walked on over to the kitchen beside his living room. Rayn just watched him, wondering what the hell he was doing while she was standing there fuming.

He disappeared into a door in the kitchen into what seemed to be a wine cellar. Rayn stared at the empty space in which he retreated to. Once she realized he was going to take a while she plopped back into the sofa. She felt like a complete idiot.

With nothing else to do but wait she began to observe his bachelor loft. It was surprising that a criminal such as himself had any sense of design. From the leather furniture in the modern living room to the blue and white mosaic tiles in his kitchen, it was a home that would cause any commoner to gawk in envy. Even though she hadn't seen the rest of the place she guessed the other rooms were just as nice as this one. It was like a home you saw in the magazines, clean, rich…and untouched. She wondered if he even spent any time at home.

Finally he came back through the door silently, stopping by some cabinets to pull out two wine glasses. With the glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other he finally walked back toward her. Rayn had calmed down and it seemed so had he, for the time being at least.

"Wine?"

Rayn eyed the green glassed bottle suspiciously as he placed it on the coffee table. Maybe he was going to crack it over her head for wasting his time? Maybe he poisoned it just as she had done to Jak and his friends? As all the possible reasons as to why she shouldn't drink anything he offered shuffled through her mind he popped open the bottle with another one of his sly grins.

"Hmm, don't think I'm going to poison you. I don't fancy that way of dealing with my enemies"

Rayn curled her lip because she really didn't want to ask exactly how did he fancy dealing with his enemies. That's the last thing she wanted to know.

She watched as he poured the glasses with crimson liquid and set the bottle aside. Judging from the golden embroidery on the bottle it seemed to be a fairly aged bottle of wine. It was a good brew.

He sat back almost lazily as he brought the glass to his thin lips. With a brief sniff in the glass he finally drank some. Wine sniffing. Funny. She never thought he'd ever do something like that.

Well, seeing that he was drinking from the same bottle, drinking the wine seemed safe enough. Carefully she reached out to grab a glass and brought it to her lips. He watched her, interested in her every movement. Before she took a sip she tilted her head at him in curiosity.

"Something isn't quite right"

His brows rose seeing that she had caught his attention.

"We're enemies correct? And here you are inviting me into your home and offering me wine? What are you scheming? What makes you so trusting?"

Razer set his glass back on the table. He folded his arms over his chest. His trench coat was hanging by the door so he was only in a black T-shirt that clearly complimented the curves of his tightened body. Another surprise to her considering his age.

"I'm not trusting at all actually"

Rayn looked baffled and he continued. "Yes I've invited you into my home and I offer you wine but did you think that I invite you here without knowing anything about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know where I live now. However I know where you live as well"

"What? How?"

"I have my sources. I know a lot more than you think so if you ever did decide to turn on me I can retaliate accordingly"

She gulped at _retaliate accordingly_. Then her eyes widened with the realization of it all. He did know more than she thought. She never told him how old she was so how did he find that out? Then again she should've realized it from the get go. Seeing that Razer was so different from Mizo's other henchmen, she shouldn't have thought she was the only one doing background checks on people. He was clever and that was exactly what she needed in her plan to win over the city.

She was speechless. With nothing to say she lifted the glass and sipped some wine into her mouth. Taking it into her cheeks to savor the aged flavor of the wine and then swallowing it down gracefully, letting the aftertaste settle inside. She failed to see the satisfied look on Razer's face.

_She couldn't smoke but at least she can drink._

It was quiet for a few minutes. Razer lifted his wrist to see the time. 4:30 AM and there was a race later today. Not much time was left before the final race, less than two months to be exact.

"Sex"

Razer almost coughed out the remaining wine sitting in his mouth before he straightened up in his recliner.

"I'm sorry, my dear, what was that?"

"I said sex"

Now Razer was speechless and confused. First they were quiet and sipping wine then she comes out of nowhere and says something absurd.

Now Rayn seemed to smile at catching him off guard as he had done to her so many times.

"The question you asked me earlier, what do men desire. I said sex, you know, intercourse"

Razer blinked as he let her words register in his head. "Oh, oh, yes that. Well that may be part of it. What else do men seek?"

Rayn thought a bit before answering, "Power, money, maybe even danger?"

"Hmm…so what does that have to do with you taking over Kras?"

He returned to her the same question she had spat at him so angrily earlier. She seemed to be stuck for a bit so he decided on lending her a hand in thought.

"Think about it, Rayn"

He had called her by her name instead of 'girl' or 'dear' or anything insulting. Rayn looked up at him unsure of where their conversation should be going. He got up and lifted her up from the sofa by the hand. He released her as he stood standing in front of her.

"Men desire different things. That's what you've failed to realize and that is what you have been doing wrong"

"I see. So in other words, if I want to convince the Crime Lords or the men in the bar I have to approach them differently"

"Hmm hmm, exactly," with that he strung his fingers through his dark hair. Some strands seemed to go loose and they fell over his green eyes. Rayn quickly turned away attempting to pretend she didn't notice how attractive he looked for that moment.

"So that's it. This whole mess can be solved just with figuring that out"

"Not exactly. You're still in need of tuning"

"Tuning? What are you trying to imply?"

Already he could sense her becoming defensive. He eyed her for a moment before glancing at the clock above the fireplace.

"It's late and I have a race to attend to later on. Why don't you meet me after the race and we can speak further on this subject"

Razer moved to grab a post it on one of his end tables and scribbled something quickly on it. He handed it to her before heading to his front door.

How nice of him to show her the way out, or rather kick her out.

Still she followed him wordlessly and without protest. He grabbed his trench coat and led her to his Havoc outside.

"Shall we go?"

Rayn smiled sarcastically, "Like there was much choice in the matter"

Razer tugged a fresh cigarette behind his ear, "Very witty woman, very"

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Rayn's so-called wittiness was already gone now that she was fast asleep. He didn't expect her to doze off on the way back to the bridge. It was only a half hour ride but guessing from the way her head now rested on the seat beside him, she was probably not used to such strenuous schedules.

Razer stopped at a red light, the horizon of Kras City now coming into view. He looked on over to observe the woman in her sleep. Krew's daughter, soon to be the biggest Crime Lord in Kras if she pushed hard enough. Crime Lords were greedy, backstabbing and power hungry. Yet she looked like none of those things when she slept. She didn't seem to be any of those things awake either. Kras City was definitely in for a change.

She was so trusting as well. Sleeping in an enemy's car and if he was that kind he would either slit her throat or take advantage of her. Yet he wasn't that kind and she probably knew that, but still. She was too soft. That was where she needed tuning.

A slight feeling of pity came over him. It was too bad that she didn't know. It was too bad that she didn't know about her prized racer killing her father. It was too bad that he'd have to be the one to report it to Mizo so that he could use it against them. Mizo was fond of creating turmoil in the opposing team and disguised as Blitz, the possibilities were endless.

As much as he almost didn't want to do it, he had to remember there were no sides when it came between them. Right now she was on hers and he was looking out for himself. He wouldn't risk his neck for anyone. So meeting up with her would not prevent him from going about his usual duties under Mizo as much as he despised him.

_Sorry princess, there is no mercy in this world. Not in these streets…_

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**Hope you found it entertaining. Also if you're looking for a good Jak story I've currently been hooked to a story called Dark War by the author Cyrex. It makes me feel like I wrote this chap in Crayola Lol. It's a must read so feel free to take a look.**


	4. Chapter 4 : An Eventful Day, Indeed

I had put German Shepherds in this chap but it was brought to my attention that they may not have existed in the Jak world, therefore not sounding too canon. Of course it can be argued that there is no such thing as German or British accents in Jak's world either since there probably isn't a Germany or Britain, however Rayn and Razer talk that way anyway. I dunno what's up with ND but for the sake of canon, I changed it to hunting dogs. I didn't want to make up a breed with croca-dogs and then it sounded weird. This tip was brought to you by Ecohorse. Thanks for the heads up. 

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Chapter 4 

Freezing cold rain shot against his body as he ran through lush thick forest. The mud, syrupy and sticky as it clung to his running feet and the night was blacker than the darkness beneath eyelids. His thin damp limps breathed in the mist coated air heavily as he continued to run, pushing aside stray branches and trying not to trip over anything. He could hear it. No matter how far he ran it just seemed to get closer and closer.

Hunting dogs.

They barked ferociously in the distance, echoing through the night around him. He couldn't tell where they were coming from anymore. He just kept running. Chancing a look back he could see the speckled spots of lights breaking through the leaves beyond.

His eyes widened at the sight of a large barb wired fence coming up ahead. The moonlight flickered off its razor sharp edges.

His fingers were cold and numb. His body wet and cut up from somehow managing to escape over the previous fences. He winced as another stray branch scraped against the thin crimson wound stretching from his shoulder to the inside of his elbow. That was what made him not too excited about encountering another one of those gates.

His will kept him going, kept him running. This was the last fence. After this one, freedom would greet him. Hopefully, if it went as planned.

The voices approaching closer accompanied by the loud roars of the dogs made him increase speed. Nothing would stop him now.

Without another thought he jumped up and grabbed onto the silver rusted fence. Grunting with pain and determination he lifted his body up to climb, climb with every ounce of energy he had left.

Halfway up the gate, the dogs were on him, barking at his dangling feet, waiting for a wrong slip so that they could mercilessly tear his limbs apart.

"Damn!" he screamed out loud, knowing the gunmen were not that far behind and soon enough they'd catch up. That was all he needed was a couple of rifle shots aimed at him when he was so close.

Just as his fingers reached the top of the gate, a strong pair of jaws snapped onto his ankle, weighing him down. He bit his lip from the pain but continued trying to hoist himself up. His fingers grabbed onto the sharp edges, bleeding from the fresh cuts he was now receiving until a barrage of shots began firing.

Like firecrackers, one after the other as the men neared him the shots grew more deafening until he saw the sparks off the fence. He finally yelled when two rifle shots stabbed through his leg and left shoulder, releasing the gate on instinct.

He gasped as his body fell. It felt like the world had stopped at that moment to allow his body to fall ever so slowly into the clamping jaws of hunting canines.

Slamming into the ground a pair of jaws narrowed into his face. His heart stopped.

_No! Get away from me you mutt! No!_

"Get off!"

Razer's body sat up from his bed violently as he blinked his eyes back into the real world. Mouth wide open and inhaling heavily, he scrambled on his left side to feel for his night lamp. Finally upon feeling the small silver knob, he twisted it, spilling a dim light around the corner of his king size bed.

He let his body fall back into his black-checkered sheets, shifting briefly to get more comfortable. His hand reached for a handkerchief sitting on the nightstand next to the lamp in which he grabbed and wiped the perspiration on his forehead. Black strands of hair messily flattened to his skin.

His eyes looked over to his left, to the thin and pale line drawn from his shoulder to the inside of his elbow. Thankfully there were no other marks from bullet shots. That was all just a dream. A dream once a memory he'd rather not remember.

The bright red numbers on his alarm clock caught his attention. 10 AM, a race was scheduled for later this afternoon.

After losing himself to a brief moment of thought he managed to lift his body up again. There was no point in trying to go back to sleep now. He decided, that he wasn't very tired anymore.

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The crowd of bloodthirsty excited fans roared through the arena, cheering as the last few pairs of tires screeched past the finish line. Once again Jak had finished first, gaining him a step closer to the final race and the Championship. His friends and familiar archenemy not too far behind him.

Jak managed a quick wave as he exited his vehicle, Daxter ranting on his shoulder about how unbeatable the two of them were. With a roll of his eyes, Jak easily ignored the orange ottsel and began approaching his mechanic who was already running out to greet him.

"Tires burn off their rubber again?" Keira attempted to smile as she said it but formed a cringe from the smoky odor instead.

Jak gave her a halfhearted grin, not that he didn't want to smile but he was too tired to do so. His thumb pointed back at his red Falcon. "Yeah, sorry Keira, got a little rough with the sharp turns…not like I had much of a choice…" His words trailed off into mumbles.

Noticing that something seemed to be weighing on Jak's mind, Keira granted him another cheery smile. Nearing closer to his body she leaned in and whispered softly into his ear.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it" Her batting eyelashes indicated that she wasn't only offering to take care of his vehicle but she would always take care of him when he needed it. This time he was able to smile at her genuinely.

"Thanks Keira. You're the best," his hand patted her shoulder and she wrinkled her nose delectably.

"No problem hero," with that she gave him a quick discreet peck on the cheek before walking away.

Daxter crossed him arms, shaking his head at his best friend.

"What?" Jak shrugged his shoulders without a clue.

"Boy that girl's got it bad for ya and you're too thick headed to really notice"

He opened his mouth to respond before a familiar voice interrupted him.

"Whaddaya say we head to the Bloody Hook? I could use some heavy intoxicating alcohol in my system right now"

Torn's hand firmly held the curvaceous tan skinned waist of Haven's governor as she nodded in agreement.

"Sounds good. Meet you there"

Torn nodded and walked past him with Ashelin. Her lips curled with disgust upon the familiar sighting of a woman with grayish violet hair heading in their direction. She seemed to be looking for Jak to congratulate him on another win.

Rayn's hand waved in the air trying to catch Jak's attention but he was already heading deeper into the crowd towards the hotels before he'd visit the bar.

"Jak! Can I speak to you for a moment? Ja-"

She was abruptly cut off by a rough shove into her shoulder. Regaining her balance she looked to her left to meet the eyes of the very woman who very often had her guns pointed at her face.

"Don't you have some sort of…business you should be attending to?"

Sounded more like a sarcastic comment than a question.

Rayn stood speechless for a moment before the anger finally flared in her. She furrowed her brows at Ashelin before straightening her clothes.

With her chin up she snapped back, "As a matter of fact I do, and it doesn't concern you"

"Wanna say that closer to my fa-" Torn's grip on her shoulders pulled the red-haired woman in the opposite direction allowing Rayn a woundless escape.

A feeling of relief washed over her as she realized Ashelin's knuckles weren't in her cheek for such a daring come back, or even her bullets. She sighed and looked up to see Razer getting into his Havoc. To her surprise he was wearing the slickest grin she had ever seen as he shook his head at her.

Angry once again from obviously being the object of Razer's amusement, she clenched her fists and stormed off to find Jak.

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Eventually Rayn was able to catch up with her prized driver in the Bloody Hook. Professionally she engaged in conversation with him although his mind seemed to be elsewhere on something that must've been worrying him. His eyes always drawing away from hers gave her that vibe. Something was wrong.

"Thank you again Jak for your help. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you," Rayn leaned her elbow against the wooden polished bar, ignoring the threatening presence sitting not too far off. Thankfully Ashelin was too occupied with her mug of foaming beer and her equally tattooed Commander sitting across from her to act as too much of a threat.

Daxter cut into their conversation, "Uh Rayn, um, about your dad, Krew and all..."

"Rayn, there's something I need to tell you"

Before Jak could say anything more the famous danger-loving reporter came bursting through the bar entrance, loud and obnoxious as always. Flying cameras swirled around him as he seemed to be doing another live update.

"Hello race fanatics, we're coming to you live with a breaking story. Yours truly has recovered documents that prove Jak was the cause of Krew's death"

Rayn's eyes enlarged with shock, "What?"

"Jak left him to die in a terrible explosion. How heartless can you get?" He flashed the camera his signature smile.

"It wasn't like that. Rayn... I had no choice," Jak pleaded for her to listen but the damage was already done.

Daxter didn't make things better. "I told Jak he should fess up. I kept saying"

"You knew? You all knew didn't you!" Rayn looked around the bar to meet the stun marked faces of Ashelin and Torn.

"Oh ho ho, could it get any more delicious? Well, we'll leave you two to work this out. Back to you Greaser and a commercial break"

Blitz motioned for the camera to cut it as his show had come to an end.

"Sorry folks. But, that's show business. Huhhahahahaha..." Blitz exited the bar, his laughter trailing behind him even though he knew he had left the winning team in an awkward moment.

Rayn didn't know what to say. She didn't know where to start. She just let the first thing that came to mind rush out of her lips. "Who are you?"

Jak looked like a mouse trapped in a corner by a cat. "Your father wasn't such a good guy. He killed a lot of people"

Of course she knew that. That was business, but she didn't care.

"And you think Mizo's any better? If we lose this championship, the whole city will suffer! Ughh! You wouldn't understand. Leave me alone. I'll win without you if I must. I'm used to taking care of myself"

With those last words she walked away, fuming with her anger.

Jak buried his half sober head into his palms with a groan. Daxter's furry hand patted his shoulder, "Good job buddy. You really did it this time"

This earned him a backslap across his head and he yelped as slid across the bar.

"Shut up Dax!"

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The cool night air hitting her face cooled off the burn in her eyes but not the burn in her chest. Yes she knew her father was a conniving, backstabbing, lying, crooked, money greedy, black mailing criminal. She knew her father's disgusting habits and his lack of care for others besides him and his own intentions.

Yet, since he was the only person she ever had growing up, that didn't bother her. He was still, oddly enough, her father and now it was revealed that her prized driver was the one who had handed him his demise.

As she sat in her vehicle, unable to bring herself to turn the ignition, a masculine hand opened in front of her eyes. Funny, she had almost forgotten. What time was it?

"Need a drink?"

Rayn looked up at Razer leaning against the side of her vehicle. Coincidentally his was parked behind. She had almost forgotten that they were to meet again today after the race. Slightly baffled she looked around for any witnesses. Razer lit his cigarette calmly.

"Don't worry. The coast is clear"

Rayn was still speechless. She just kept her eyes on her steering wheel, hands clasped in her lap. Realizing that she wasn't planning to respond or was too dumbfounded to find the words at the moment, he walked away.

His vehicle rumbled as he started his engine and drove next to her. She finally managed to look over to his side. Razer had to contain himself from smiling as cruel as it sounded. She looked like a wounded puppy and somehow he found it amusing for her to so freely express such a thing.

"Follow me" was all he said as he drove down the street.

Pausing for some unknown reason she finally turned the key and started her car. She drove behind him. She didn't know where he was going. She didn't know why she was going. All she knew was that she didn't care.

She just needed to get away for the moment and strangely enough, Razer seemed to be the opportune person to help her do so.

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**Lotsa cookies for Luv2Game for Beta. Sorry if I missed a comma or so, I lost the email and had to remember from memory. **


	5. Chapter 5 : Lesson One Beneficial Anger

**Sooo sleepy, now I know how Luv2Game feels. Forgive me if I missed a correction or so. Enjoy everyone.**

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**Chapter 5**

When Rayn thought about wanting to get away from her life at the moment, as far as she possibly could, she didn't expect the ride to take more than an hour.

Kras City was a big city, full of life and beaming with streetlights. The city never slept and large HD TV screens on the sides of buildings and billboards advertised everything from fashion to its most popular trademark sport, combat racing. It was funny how she had spent so much time in this city that was soon to be hers, if the race went as planned, and had never actually toured around to look at its attractions.

For just a moment she almost found herself entranced by the shops and crowds of people, colorful shopping bags in hand and performers on the corners. Unfortunately, it was just a moment before she came plummeting back down to reality with the memory of the events that had happened throughout the day. From mounds of paperwork to the failing investigation of Mizo's identity, to Ashelin's ongoing death threat against her and the now revealed fact that her prized driver was the murderer who had left her father to die, even the lights of the city couldn't make her day any better. Being on the other side of the city away from the tracks and the Bloody Hook didn't help at all.

Nothing would douse this scorching burn she had inside, from the truth of her father's death, to the truth of her success as the Kras heiress. Like a burning house, she was falling to pieces and the water pumps were only spreading the flames.

She was so lost in her daze that she failed to notice the Havoc now beside her own vehicle instead of leading it. A brief honk, twice pressed, in her direction abruptly pulled her out from thought.

She looked over at Razer who, surprisingly, didn't have a cigarette in his mouth for once. He nodded at her, pointing down the street and gesturing that that was their destination. She stared blankly for a moment before he just shook his head at her and drove ahead. She followed.

Coming to a slow halt in front of a large beige building, complimented with European lighting fixtures and flowers hanging from the windows, Rayn couldn't help but blink at the place in awe. White French doors and windows surrounded a black canopy sign inscribed with a fancy font. She squinted her eyes just to make sure she was reading right and it seemed that she wasn't hallucinating. Glancing over at Razer, who was handing his key to the parking attendant, confirmed her thought even more, adding to the shock that was already evident in her large eyes.

_A restaurant? Now what in the name of Mar is he thinking?_

Glued to her seat, Razer finally took it upon himself to welcome her back into reality again by standing in front of her, offering her a hand. Still refusing to move, he sighed to himself before dropping his offered hand to open her door. This time he wasn't as polite.

"Out".

Rayn shook her head wildly from cloud nine before bending her brows at him. Baffled, but now a bit angry about his way of getting her out of the car, not that she blamed him, still, - that was no way to treat a lady. He opened his hand in front of her again and this time she shoved the keys into his palm, rudely and ungratefully. Rayn walked past him to the front of the restaurant and Razer only chuckled beneath his breath.

"Stubborn woman…"

As he gave her keys to the attendant she distracted herself with the lights dangling from the canopy, casting a dim elegant glow on the smooth concrete. She huddled in her own arms from the cool breeze until Razer approached her with a sly grin. "Shall we?"

Using all the resistance in her body to stop herself from curling her lip at him, she just walked on without him, chin up and not saying a word. Not caring for her childish antics, he followed.

He knew what was wrong with her and he knew why she was acting this way. There was no sense in pointing it out. So for now he'd allow her to take her frustrations out on him and in a way, it was well earned, being that he was the one that informed Mizo of Jak being her father's killer.

Sensing Razer's laid back presence behind her only inspired her to quicken her pace towards the restaurant entrance. Once again, the possibility that he was slowly charming her into his bed sheets crossed her mind. Why else would he do such a bizarre thing? They were enemies and were in no way connected besides the fact that combat racing and power were in the equation. This was business and that was all, and she doubted going out for an expensive entrée was included in her quest for power.

"Why?" She suddenly blurted aloud and stepped back with a gasp.

"Hmm?"

She couldn't take her foot out of her mouth now. "I said why? Why are we here of all the places in the world? What foolishness possessed you to come here?"

His fingers stroked his chin for a moment before he gave her a quaint answer, "You're not hungry?"

Rayn shot him a sharp look from her slitted eyes, if looks could kill her glare would be in the shape of a frying pan hitting his head. Most likely he would still enjoy it with the curve of his lips just as he was doing now.

Following the tall, stiff waiter who led them to their table she sat wordlessly and neatly with the cross of her long legs and her hands folded in front of her. "Don't we have some business to sort out today?" Rayn pursued, picking at him with her words and still he didn't seem to bend under her pressure.

Instead he ignored her as the waiter walked over with a note pad and pen, curled mustache moving as he spoke. "Would you like to hear our specials?"

"Wine. Just show me some of your finest bottles of wine and I'll choose from there. I think the lady could use some".

At that he returned her sharp glance from earlier and she retaliated with a roll of her eyes. Razer began unfolding the burgundy handkerchief on the table while continuing to strum at her patience as she was strumming his tolerance for her attitude. She just pressed her cheek into her palm as her elbow propped up on the table, glancing away from him and thinking it would be best to just ignore him for the time being.

It wasn't crowded in the restaurant. The inside was just as elegant as the outside, crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceilings, a black grand piano gracing a stage in the lounge area, and embroidered curtains draping down from the windows and chairs. Traditional molding crowned the walls, matching the white tablecloths over the round tables.

It was a typical, expensive elegant restaurant, one which she never bothered to visit because of various reasons, one being that it wasn't much fun going anywhere alone unless you were accompanied by a friend of some sort. She huffed out a small laugh at the word 'friends'. Right…

Two large glass bottles, wrapped in gold and silver paper was placed in front of her and she returned her eyes towards the table, then to Razer who was already opening one of them. He began pouring the crimson liquid into her wine glass and she just stared at him with the blandest look he'd ever received from her yet.

Fingertips pushing the rim of the glass, he lifted a brow at her, "Drink. It'll do your mood some good".

She crossed her arms in front of her chest rebelliously, causing a purple vein to become rather large and visible on the side of Razer's forehead. He gritted through his teeth in the most polite way he could possibly manage. "Take the wine".

"No-thank-you," she mouthed slowly, as if he were operating on half a brain. A jolt of anger raced through him.

"Fine," he sat back, "Then you can watch until the boredom devours you".

Damn it, he was right. She could only admire the restaurant so many times before bringing her eyes back to her table in which Razer drank joyously in silence. Vibrations of hunger rumbled through her stomach but she knew he wouldn't order any food until she either drank the wine or she left. She would've actually liked to leave, to spare herself from dwelling in his obnoxious presence any longer but she didn't know the way home.

Feeling defeated and rather upset about that fact, she lifted up the wine glass in front of her and drank the wine. As if expecting it, Razer pushed a full bottle in her direction indicating that it was hers alone, to indulge in as she pleased. She swiped it with a sigh and began pouring away.

Of course when it came to Razer, wine was like a soda pop to a toddler. It had a weak effect on him, if any, but the intoxicating taste and burn in his system always seemed to ease the crime life he endured when he wanted to get away. After wiping the blood off his fingertips, he'd find himself on his porch drinking a glass of wine and just for a moment, forgetting the cruelty that fate had dealt him.

That was why he encouraged her to do the same. It was a shame that he didn't know he'd come to regret that decision later on.

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For the twentieth time within the past hour Rayn slammed her palm on the table, cheeks rosy from her fits of laughter and her body slouching over. Razer kept his eyes on hers despite the fact that she was leaning toward him in the most unladylike fashion, cleavage pressing and pushing up from the edge of the table. She was too busy drowning in her newfound drunken outburst to notice and he did his best to give a blind eye to it.

He wasn't the type of man to take advantage of a woman when she was vulnerable but he had to admit, the option of it was tempting. Still, he had to remind himself that this was simply a business meeting and she was still his enemy.

"So father realized- that half the Eco that was being smug- was missi- and I just knew, I just knew that was going to happen so I-"

Razer faked the perspiration on his forehead just so that he could have an excuse to cover his eyes and save himself from watching anymore of this foolishness. There weren't many other people in the restaurant, but the few that were there was having a jolly time being entertained by the British woman who had a little too much wine with her reality.

If she were a man from the bar, his knuckles would have met her mouth the minute she would've started rambling on pointlessly and wasting his time. It was a shame that she was a woman, he wasn't too fond of disposing of women unless he had to or they really, really pissed him off. As for Rayn, she was getting there.

"So I had to make a last minute call to the airlin- and get a round trip ticket just to clean up his mess-"

"Rayn," Razer's fingertips pressed on his temples in rotating circles.

"I really shouldn't have bothered, but since he had a contract-"

"Rayn…"

"That would've been half a' mil' down the bloody trash-"

"Get a hold of yourself," his voice wasn't loud, but clear, clear enough to make her stop mid-sentence. "Get over it already".

Rayn blinked, caught off guard by the comment, "P-pardon?"

Satisfied that he had broken through her, he sat back in his chair, becoming more relaxed. "I said, get over it. Whatever you're masking through your idiocy and wine, get over it"

Her amber eyes trembled as she fixed her eyes on him, speechless and stunned. Her lips hung agape before she closed it and spun her head away. She wasn't really as drunk as she acted; she knew how to handle her wine. She just wanted to force him to lead her home once his patience had run thin. Her act didn't seem to work and instead his patience ran thin anyway without the bliss of him possibly releasing her, at least for the night.

She just wanted to forget what happened during the day, forget all the things that could happen if nothing went as planned, she just wanted to forget it all. He had pushed the right button and it shut her up, and at the same time it shut her down.

Razer sighed, neither dinner nor their business agreement would ever get anywhere at this rate. As he poured himself another glass of wine he spoke again, "Lesson one".

She returned her gaze to him as he continued, "You can do one of two things…frolic and mope around childishly as your Dynasty falls into hands more capable or-" He took a moment to sip his wine. "Or you can take your anger and do something useful with it".

Rayn's head lolled to the side as she let his words sink into her train of thought. He was right. As much as it angered her that he was actually right, and that she allowed herself to act so juvenile in front of him, it wouldn't change the fact that his words held such truth in them. He didn't candy coat anything or make it sound pretty. He told you how it was, raw and real.

"Useful hmm?" Rayn propped her chin on her knuckles, now back to her old self.

"Think of a place where that anger and attitude would benefit you. Take advantage of your confidence right now".

Suddenly her eyes lit up and she grinned deviously. Razer couldn't help but grin back. He couldn't hide the fact that he may have liked it when she smiled so evilly.

Taking one last gulp of wine, she slammed the glass on the table and stood up from her chair. "I'm going to the Bloody Hook".

"Are you sure that's wise?" Razer eyed her suspiciously. Would she think twice about her decision? Would she fold under the pressure? Would last minute fear make her back down?

Rayn stopped at the entrance to the restaurant, turning back to call out to him, "Yes I'm very sure. I'm taking advantage of my daring anger and I'm going to enjoy doing it too" She took a step outside but quickly lit up with another thought, turning back once more, "Oh, and you have the check? Very well, then".

When she raced out the doors, after being so 'considerate' about the check, Razer shook his head.

_Now she's learning…_

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What do men want? Sex. Money. Power. Danger.

What do I want? Kras City.

How to meet both ends without compromising myself to their lowly levels? Simple.

She should've thought of it earlier.

The wine still burning and sizzling in the pit of her stomach, she rushed into the Bloody Hook, slamming both doors open. Legs standing firm and wide, a look of determination flashing in her eyes, she searched the room for one particular man.

She couldn't take her anger out on Jak, at least not now but in the meantime, Shiv would suffice to satisfy her. Wide eyes glared at her, remembering her from the previous time and pondering her intentions. This time her slight buzz with the combination of her low tolerance for men because of Jak would make this time different.

This time she had no fear. Just anger. Just confidence.

"You there!" She pointed at Shiv at the bar, foam coating his lips from his beer as he turned to glare up and down at her. Her hair was messy, loose strands falling over her eyes and her shirt unbuttoned two buttons down her chest.

"What do you want?" He gave her a sickly smile as he took in her less than conservative appearance.

She clicked her heels over in his direction, fisting a handful of his shirt in her hand, her face inches from his. Before he could curse at her, she smiled. The same evil smile she showed Razer in the restaurant. For some reason Shiv couldn't help but find it disturbing.

"So, you think you can treat a lady the way you did last time and get away with it, huh? You think you're full of brawn, don't you now?"

"So what if I do. What're you gonna do 'bout it?"

She released him, crossing her arms in front of her, hips titled to one side as she tapped her foot. "I challenge you to a race, after next week's official race. We'll see who has the brawn in this room?"

Murmurs and laughter submerged across the bar until they noticed the raise of her eyebrow. She was serious. She was damn serious.

Shiv put his beer mug onto the wooden bar before crossing his arms as well. "I like your attitude girl. I'll do it and I'll make you feel like the woman you are"

"Never count your chickens before they hatch," she wagged her finger at him, still with that magical drunken grin and dark hair over her eyes, making her look sinfully seductive. Unintentionally luring him closer to her, he placed his arm on the bar, almost around her and leaned in.

"What do I get if I win and break your pride?"

Rayn pushed him back with her palm before turning to walk away, hips swiveling and hand on her side. Raising another finger, she shook her head, "Know your place. When I take over this city they'll be a heavy price to pay if you get that close to me again".

She didn't know what came over her. She didn't know where all this daring confidence came from. It could've been the wine. It could've been the day. All she knew was that she was having a hell of a time wrapping these lackeys around her fingers, using what she always used best, her words.

It was nice to be reminded whom the queen of negotiation and persuasion was. She'd almost forgotten.

There was no feeling more satisfying then walking out of that bar feeling on top of the world while the minions crawled beneath her very feet. By the time she came out of the bar, the sun was coming up, greeting the sky with an orange glow.

There were no knives. There were no threats. There were no groping incidents or taking her to 'the back'. She went in and came out of that bar in one piece.

_Now this is what it feels like to be the boss._

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"Hello Rayn dear, I'm sure you're just delighted to come upon this entry. This one should bring a smile to your face".

Rayn rolled her eyes as she continued to scrub her purple toothbrush across her teeth, sweeping it back and forth neatly with lips covered in foam. Dressed in blue satin pajamas, she curled her toes onto the warmth of the fluffy bathroom mat in front of the sink.

"Now, I know that Razer fellow is essential in our plan and I have no doubt that you are taking full advantage of what he has to offer…"

Rayn almost spit into the mirror from laughter but contained herself. _What he has to offer? Hah! Between sensual death threats and a side of schizophrenia?_

"Well, anyway, let me just make this brief. After you hear this entry it will delete itself from memory to ensure no one points the finger at you for the crime…"

_Crime?_ Half her body hung out of the bathroom door to stare at the hologram of her father laying on her golden vanity, eyes bent in curiosity.

"Now I know you don't like to get your hands dirty so don't worry, the other Crime Lords have already been informed of it. They all came to an agreement that this was the right choice after Mizo's death to prevent any further, what shall I call it, casualties ey"

She suddenly didn't like the way her father rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. It usually meant he was gathering something devious in mind.

"After Mizo is (Krew cleared his throat) disposed of, we will ensure the safety of Kras City in our hands by getting rid of that nasty scum, what's his name, yes Razer".

Her purple toothbrush fell to the floor from her hanging jaw.

"Don't worry, it'll be swift and none of it will connect to you, so be sure to take full advantage, ey?"

Her father gave her a grotesque wink before his image fuzzed away and she ran over to the vanity, scuffling through the buttons to replay it.

'Entry deleted' was all it said. It was gone.

Sleepy eyes fixed onto the data pad, right next to her hairbrush. She replayed his message over and over in her head.

_Take full advantage of him and then dispose? Father I completely forgot just how shrewd you really are._

She shrugged her shoulders carelessly, "Oh well, that's business"

With that she retreated back into her bathroom to take her morning shower.

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**There goes that backbone of Rayn's that everyone was questioning me about. :grins:**


	6. Chapter 6 : Brains over Brawn

**I had so much fun writing this chap, it's longer then the last. I hope you find the action scenes okay. I tried…**

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**Chapter 6**

"Hmm, is that so?"

"Yes sir, I'm not sure what his intentions are, but it seems that he was already acquainted with the woman".

Cynical indigo eyes peered through the darkness of the dim corner that he was seated in; smoke trailing from his large, thick cigar as he spun his eyes up in thought. Tapping his chin, he observed the trustworthiness of the man in front of him.

His eyes trembled with slight fear from being under his ominous presence, a dark wooden mask concealed the shady face beneath it and, obviously, he was one of the smaller names among his many henchmen. Cutter.

He couldn't come up with a reason to doubt his words at the moment. Mizo grinned with a hidden thought obviously gearing in mind. He knew his type well, one of his most favored, truth be told. He was a stool pigeon, a rat. They only made his job easier, although knowing the person he was squealing on, he wouldn't live very long afterwards whether the information given was true or not. That was the amusing part. He didn't really care though; this driver wasn't really one of his essentials.

Mizo nodded as he twisted the cigar bud into the ashtray on the coffee table. "All right then, I'll look into it. Be sure to get rid of her if given the chance. You're dismissed". Reacting to the passive wave of his hand, Cutter immediately stood up from the leather lounge chair, almost stumbling over his own feet.

"Y-yes sir, I mean boss- sir," without sparing another look toward his master, Cutter darted out of the dark meeting room in which Mizo often hid and conducted his 'business affairs' in. It was actually a hidden room beneath the home news studio, 'Blitz's' studio, which was why it was free of suspicion from any prying eyes. No one was able to put together that the money leeching, goods smuggling, spree killing combat racer was also the famed news host with a wide cheery smile and a twinkle in his eye. It was good to keep things that way. However, because of recent events, Jak's winning streak to be more precise, his control over hiding his identity was beginning to waver.

Within moments, the person who he had been waiting for spoke over the intercom. He was simple and straight to the point, just made things faster and all the better. All he said was, 'I'm here' and Mizo shook his head with another thought suppressing grin.

Mizo leaned forward to press the red button under the black coffee table; a buzz announced that the door had been unlocked. It would take him a minute or so being that he had to walk across the well disguised studio to get to the basement door and down intertwining steel stairs. Then a long hall would lead him to that single lounge room that also needed to be unlocked. Mizo liked to take his precautions. The room itself wasn't of anything mistrusting, so if anyone were to discover it, all they'd find were some rare paintings and a masculine den set up, complete with lounge chairs and his coffee table.

Another grumble of quick words were exchanged over the intercom again before Mizo let him in. He sat back against the cushion of his chair as he awaited his most dangerous and most esteemed drivers to approach him. As soon as he saw him step into the light, Mizo offered a box of imported cigars to his guest.

"I have my own," Razer waved away his offer, bringing his hand to his lips, making an orange light flicker against his face as he lit his fix. Putting the lighter in the front pocket of his trench coat, he sat down across from his 'boss', wearing the same dry, unreadable expression as always. Resting his ankle on his knee, he lifted a brow at Mizo, signaling that he'd state his reasons for inviting him to his private quarters.

Mizo folded his hands on his knee, eyeing the man locking gazes with him. His eyes blazed with passionate hatred and murderous intent and yet, his face would never yield such things.

Mizo cleared his throat. "I've heard- some interesting rumors lately".

Razer said nothing. Effortlessly, he pulled the long white cigarette from his lips as he exhaled trials of smoke from them. He didn't seem to have a care in the world. Nothing fazed him - nothing disheveled his mood if he didn't let it.

"I've heard you have been seen with a _certain _woman the other day," Mizo challenged him with his squeezing eyes.

Razer only tilted his head with a sly grin, "Is there something wrong with taking care of my- _personal_ affairs?"

He was being sarcastic and playing naïve just to pull Mizo's leg and they both knew it. They both knew what woman they were talking about but neither would say it. Mizo's brows bent in reaction, already feeling his forehead rise and wrinkle with slight anger. Then a smile matching Razer's formed on his own face.

"Of course not…but you _do_ know what will happen if you betray me, don't you?"

"Will you plant explosives on my vehicle too? Sorry to pull you from your cloud but that doesn't work on me," Razer's smile only stretched wider, flashing his straight white teeth as Mizo's teeth only seemed to clench in anger.

"I think you know very well what will happen…"

Razer exhaled another puff of nicotine from his lips before he arched a brow at him, "Hmm, what is it? Do you doubt the compliance of your most reliable driver? What interest would it be of mine if I lent a hand to the enemy?"

Mizo lifted his head as he registered Razer's words. It was true. Lending a hand to the enemy would be too risky and too dangerous of a move, also the benefit, if any, was no guarantee. The smart move would be to stay on the side that was currently in power until it was a guaranteed fact that there would be a change. Besides, everything that Razer was, the very life that he lived, belonged to Mizo. He wouldn't make such an idiotic advancement…or would he?

Mizo knew full well the lady's man Razer was and there was no doubt in his mind that maybe, somehow, he was charming Rayn over and using her to his advantage, to _their _advantage. He couldn't be too sure of anything yet, he needed more than just the words of one of his lower henchmen.

Finally Mizo nodded, "Inform me if anything of interest should come up".

"Of course," Razer agreed before he stood up from his chair, back turned to Mizo. Before he could walk away, Mizo stopped him.

"Oh and…since you're in _such close_ proximity to her, it would be easiest for you to be the one to dispose of her". This would be the test to see whose side he was on, and if he were to fail, he had already ordered Cutter to take care of the job.

Razer nodded before he left the room and walked down the long hall in silence, throwing his cigarette butt to the floor disrespectfully, not caring that it was still lit. Once outside the news studio, Razer got into his car, stringing his fingers through his black strands of hair with a sigh.

Usually at a time like this, he'd vent his anger through a couple of laps around the tracks, but being that another event was awaiting his arrival, today all he'd be able to do was watch from the sidelines. That was fine. There were…other ways to release his frustrations. A smile played across his devious features before he drove away.

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After the crowds emptied the arena and spilled out into the streets, another group of people entered the tracks. Mostly men compiled of Mizo's best and worst drivers, along with puffy haired prostitutes decorating some of their arms, they each arrived in his or her own combat vehicle. They were entertained by cans of beer and crude jokes until the familiar and long awaited vehicle began to drive into the stadium. Another two vehicles on each side for extra protection in case things should go wrong.

The vehicle halted in front of the others some feet away before the feminine figure, now dressed in beige racing gear and a helmet, rose up from the exit. Her dark hair glistened in the burning sun as she removed her helmet and approached the group of men. Hand on her hip and wearing a confident smile, she bopped her head at Shiv. He stood ready for her, leaning on the hood of his car with crossed arms.

"Ready for a painful, if not deadly, defeat Krew's girl?"

"I think you may be confusing me for yourself," she shot back smoothly, earning yet another impressed grin from the criminal. She observed some of the other familiar drivers parked behind him. Edje, UR-86 and Cutter's car seemed to just sputter behind, obviously late for the meeting. Cutter gave Shiv an apologetic glance and mouthed 'car trouble' and Shiv just shrugged in response. Returning his gaze to Rayn, his eyes then flickered with interest at the arena entrance. It also caught the interest of the other drivers as well.

Rayn looked behind her to see the well-known Havoc zooming in before reaching a screeching halt on the side of the arena, away from both groups. He made it very clear that he was an individual and did not bother going through the trouble of belonging to any 'cliques' of any sort. Razer stepped out with short gesture of his hand, "You can begin now".

Razer wasn't taking part in the race. He knew if he did, he'd beat them all before he even had the chance to break a sweat. Leaving them all in the dust would defeat the whole purpose of Rayn proposing the challenge to Shiv, so therefore he took it upon himself to just watch and see how it turned out.

"Let's go then," Shiv waved at the men behind him and they responded with grunts and cheers of masculinity and excitement.

Rayn flashed Razer a quick glance but he didn't seem to meet her gaze. His eyes were already on the tracks. Each vehicle made their way to the starting line, Razer slowly making his way on foot as well, to be the one to send them off.

Since this wasn't an official race, the starting lights were off, there were no ambulances on stand-by and no cameras to record the brutality. It was just raw and dirty driving without witnesses, except for those present, and the witnesses weren't guaranteed to tell the truth if anything should happen that shouldn't.

Cutter once again sputtered up to the line with a frustrated bang on his steering wheel. Razer smoothly walked aside his vehicle, lifted up Cutter's hood, and with a few movements of his hands, he put it back down and nodded with approval. Cutter turned the ignition and it growled with newfound power. "Good looking out," he shouted over to Razer.

"Enjoy your ride," Razer responded before walking over to the middle of the starting line between Shiv and Rayn's roaring vehicles. Smoke spinning from their wheels already, Razer smiled with hidden thought as he took off his coat. The women gathered at his Havoc cooed and squealed in excitement at the sight of Razer's tight arms wrapped nicely in his dark shirt, matching his dark and slick hair.

Razer lifted his coat into the air. All eyes followed as the engines bellowed, dirt splashing from the spinning wheels and metal gleaming in the sun. The wind blew dust past solemn eyes as they focused on the garment clenched in Razer's fist. With the downward motion of Razer's hand, the vehicles were off.

A detonation of wind sounded as Rayn stomped onto her turbo power, Shiv doing the same. As the other vehicles soon fell behind, both of them zoomed down the concrete and dirt paths in unison, wheels sparking and grinding, fierce glances exchanged every few seconds. Another blue whirl spun around their wheels as they both swerved violently around a sharp curve, deafening crashes and fiery flames announced the first few deadly mishaps of the drivers behind them that could not handle the turn.

A sadistic smile crossed over Shiv's face as he only accelerated even more. Rayn cringed at his smile but sped up as well. Another vehicle soon cut in front of the both of them. Dropping mines directly behind him, they both jerked their wheels to avoid them. More crashes and explosions set off behind them.

Tires flying past them and rolling over the tracks, Shiv then jerked the front of his hood against Rayn's. With a screaming shriek, the metal of his hood scratched against hers and she cursed over at him. Surprisingly, when she looked over, he was motioning something with his eyes. It was the driver in front of them. UR-86, the second best driver next to Razer. None of them had a chance unless they got rid of him. Dipping her head to him in understanding, they both turbo dashed alongside him.

The red android, suddenly alert that he was being bombarded by two drivers, attempted to speed past them. Only being fortunate to bump the back of his vehicle with their front bumpers, they both locked onto UR-86's vehicle. Homing missiles launched with a sharp whistle through the air, spinning and coiling toward the automaton's vehicle.

Skidding around another sharp turn, UR-86 managed to escape three out of four missiles, the fourth only causing minimal damage. "Bloody bag of bolts!" Rayn yelled as she began shooting her machine guns at his back bumper. The bullets ricocheted off his trunk in bronze and gold sparks.

A red light layered over Shiv's vehicle as he sped up ahead in front of Rayn, but still behind UR-86. "Get off!" Shiv grunted as he rammed the front of his vehicle into his back bumper. UR-86's body jolted forward from the violent force banging him from behind.

Raising his crimson fist in anger, UR-86 smashed the brakes, intentionally falling behind the both of them. Now lagging behind them, his machine gun bullets began to hit beneath their tires. Realizing that he was trying to get them both off the road by shooting at their tires, they tried to speed up but to no avail. There was no turbo left until the next time they passed the starting line.

Meanwhile, Razer leaned against the hood of his car, the few women that were accompanying the other drivers gathered around him. Razer's ears perked up at the sounds of death cries and explosions. It was like music to his ears. The smell of motor oil and burning rubber was tasted in the air.

Now this was freedom. Even though his life was not his own, and his lifestyle was not without consequence, when he was here, he was alive. When he felt the wind thrashing through his hair as he raced through the tracks, he felt like there was nowhere he couldn't go and nothing he couldn't do. Only then was his life in his own hands and other lives were in his. There could be nothing more enjoyable than this.

Beaming at this sweet thought, he slid a cigarette into his lips. Before he could reach into his pocket, a feminine hand wrapped in black fishnet gently slithered into his fingers. He looked over at the red headed woman beside him. Sage eyes locked onto his roguishly, thick red lips licking lustfully as her leg discreetly rubbed against his. Her denim skirt drawing up slightly to reveal the flesh of her thighs, he skewed her over with curious eyes.

"Allow me to light that for you," she offered, reaching into the valley of cleavage in which her lighter was hidden. Her hand rose up to his cigarette, his fingers guiding her there and keeping the light against the cigarette. Even after lighting the cigarette, her hand lingered there for a moment before finally returning the lighter into the tight space between her full, almost exposed, breasts.

"Thank you my dear," he tipped his head at her gratefully and she responded by pressing her body even closer to his.

Feigning fascination, her red nails drew over the skin of his neck before she whispered, "I don't really understand this sport. Maybe you could explain it to me sometime".

"Hmm," Razer responded with a smirk, his body didn't flinch the slightest bit even as she continued to scratch along the side of his neck.

Beckoning the other two women with her finger, they all surrounded him. Long legs stood seductively close to his as they continued to coo and adore him. The brunette tapped his chin playfully, "Maybe you can explain it to all of us".

He knew what they wanted…him. He had taken the red head to bed twice and it seemed that the experience was gossiped to the others, causing them to swarm to him for a taste. It wasn't usually his style to take these kinds of women to bed but at the time, it was convenient and free of charge. He had only taken her right after he was free from the 'cage'. He knew that if he wanted to take the opportunity though, even now it would be free of charge and to take them all.

Even he had his desires that needed to be satisfied but unlike the other grotesque thugs under Mizo's rule that couldn't tame their crotches, years in a cell trained him to be without a woman and be content with it. Since then, he hadn't really felt the need to take such a recycled, flesh-bearing woman to bed.

Before he could respond, his eyes widened back with interest at the starting line as he stepped out from the crowd of lust-ridden women.

"Shit!"

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The explosion branched off into fiery balls of fire, spreading and rising into the air as the familiar, robotic voice echoed through it.

"Take that!" Rayn threw her head back in laughter, her hair becoming loose with the strong gusts of wind. Shiv also laughed as they looked back, smiling with satisfaction at a plan well conducted. Deciding to stay in front of him and obstruct his view, they were able to split at the right moment in which UR-86 had drove right into a mine, allotting enough damage to his car to finally make him explode to his demise, for the time being.

Finally they had become serious again, eyes glaring at each other. It was the second lap. One more afterwards. UR-86 was out of their path and the other drivers were already lagging behind them. The only competition was each other.

Thrusting down the intertwining road once again, they accelerated through the streets, concrete stained with skid marks as they raced furiously. "Be ready to kiss my feet," she yelled confidently over at Shiv.

"Sure, anything to kiss below your waist!" Shiv purposely gave her a sickening wink, knowing full well that it would only disgust her.

A jolt of anger made her fists clench onto the steering wheel, "Just wait till I win you swine!"

"We'll see about that little girl!" his engine roared, blue waves iridescent around his tires as he shot ahead of her. She knew better though. There wouldn't be enough turbo power until the third lap, she'd save it until she could use it to her advantage. He was a bit wide on the turns, giving her the advantage to get slightly ahead since her vehicle swerved over the curves more smoothly and she was able to control her vehicle a little easier than his.

Every turn they made, he widely turned and she stood closer to the edges. It was risky, but she handled her vehicle well enough not to go crashing into walls or skidding off from a wrong turn. An upcoming supply of blue eco made her eyes light up with hope as she immediately drove between two of them, automatically filling her turbo gauge to full. Shiv was a little ahead, but with every turn she caught up and he fell behind just for a moment.

_Smart girl_, Razer thought to himself as he folded his arms, watching the race and pleased with the progress. The women behind him curled their lips seeing that he had lost interest in them, so they just occupied themselves with their own conversation.

The third lap was coming to an end, the last sharp curve that she had been waiting for was coming up. Shiv's car was slowly lagging behind just as planned because of his lack of blue eco. Her heart pumped her hot blood ferociously through her veins.

"Now!" she shrieked as she made the sharp turn as he made his wide turn. Just like always she accelerated in front of him or just a moment but before he could get too far ahead of her, her foot jammed down on the turbo pedal. Her wheels alit with blue flames so strong, they glowed like her entire vehicle was spitting out fire from the back.

"What the-," Shiv's eyes widened as he stabbed his foot on his acceleration. He still couldn't catch up to her and there was no turbo to boost him forward before they reached the finish line.

Rayn cheered herself on as her vehicle spun past the finish line at full speed, smoke clouding around her wheels as she came to a strong halt. Shiv came to a halt just seconds afterwards. "Damn it!" Shiv fisted the leather on his steering wheel. He couldn't believe he had just lost to _her_, to a _woman_.

Rayn jumped out of her vehicle, taking off her helmet and throwing it in the air victoriously. Her hair was partially loose, long strands messily falling all over the curves of her smiling face. The men that were hired for her protection and were standing by their two vehicles that accompanied her earlier, clapped and praised her.

Shiv finally managed to pull himself from his vehicle, jumping out and leaning on the side of it. The other few drivers that managed to escape the brutality of the race slowly began stopping at the finish line behind him. Shiv's head tilted to the side as he shook his head at her, still in disbelief.

"Well, congratulations Krew's girl. You won,".

Rayn crossed her arms, "I told you brains win over brawn…and you can call me boss from now on".

A loud cocky laugh erupted from Shiv, "Just because you've won the race, you still have a long way to go before I start calling you boss". A devious and obviously inappropriate thought seemed to flash over his mind and it showed through his growing smirk, "Unless…".

Rayn raised her hand to stop whatever absurd comment he was ready to spit at her, "Don't you even think about it".

"No one's going to be calling you boss after this," a strange, cackled voice sounded over the radio. Shiv bent his confused eyebrows at the radio in his vehicle, as did the other drivers. Rayn wrinkled her forehead, baffled and feeling a slight tinge of fear.

Her eyes suddenly widened at the approaching vehicle coming straight towards her from the tracks. It was one of the drivers that lagged behind. It also seemed to be the voice that sounded over the radio, being that all the other drivers were present.

Shiv and the other men quickly scattered out of the way but Rayn froze. Her amber eyes stared ahead of her, watching the speeding car zoom right at her with the intention of running her over. Behind the wheel was a shady driver, wearing a dark wooden mask hiding his murderous expression. Her fingers trembled and her feet were planted to the ground. The men she hired were eagerly rushing forward to try and push her out of the way but they wouldn't make it in time.

_Precursors! I'm going to die! This is it!_

Her eyes squeezed shut with anticipation before a swift flash of red and silver cut through the air towards Cutter's head. The silver knife stabbed through the bonds that attached his mask to his face. His mask now falling down to his arms, he stared down at the red-handled knife in bewilderment, then he looked up quickly enough to see the blood lusting grin of the most dangerous man in Kras City. Suddenly the horrific words replayed in his mind from earlier.

'_Enjoy your ride'._

His horrified, sepia eyes looked down onto the interior of his mask. It read in carved letters, 'Brakes'.

At the realization of what this meant, Cutter immediately stomped down onto his brakes. They didn't work! His body went into a panic, continuing to stomp onto his brakes like a raging mad man while losing the concentration he had to run Rayn over. Swerving his vehicle right past her, she opened her eyes just in time to see him heading straight for a nearby concrete wall.

She gasped in horror as she shielded her body, huddling onto the ground as Cutter went crashing into the wall with a deafening cry of help. After a loud crash and explosion following after, debris and pieces of metal flew around the arena. The remains of his vehicle engulfed in flames, the driver was evidently dead.

"How unfortunate," Razer shook his head at Cutter's leftovers, approaching Rayn with a grim expression.

"Wh-what happened?" Rayn straightened her body again, blinking at the combusting vehicle in shock.

The other drivers whispered amongst themselves, eyes wide at Cutter's gravesite. Shiv shot Razer a knowing glance. Shiv knew exactly what happened. Cutter had crossed Razer the wrong way and that was the consequence he endured. That was why no one ever got Razer angry or got in the way of any of his missions. They knew better.

"Time to get going," Shiv yelled over to the rest of the drivers and they quickly obeyed, all avoiding glances with the deadly criminal known as Razer. After they sped away, Rayn continued to blink and stare at where Cutter had crashed.

"What do you say we celebrate your victory over some wine?"

Rayn looked up at Razer, nodding slowly and unsure. "O-oh yes, sure. That sounds nice".

Razer pointed towards the exit with his thumb, "Meet you outside. I need to take care of something first".

Rayn eyed him suspiciously. Without further question, she brushed aside a stray strand from her eyes and obediently walked towards her vehicle. As she drove away, the other two vehicles that she came with followed behind.

Razer clenched his teeth, jaw bulging from his face as he swiftly made his way towards Cutter's flaming racing car. Squinting his eyes from the black smoke and the heat from the explosion, Razer used one hand to shield his eyes and the other to guide in front of him.

Catching the glimpse of red he was looking for, Razer reached in and pulled out his red knife jabbed onto the front seat beside the body. Quivering eyes stared mutely up at Razer as his chest heaved heavily up and down, gasping for breath. He was still alive, barely, but just enough to be called 'alive'. Cutter pleaded him with helpless eyes, although he knew that what happened to him was well deserved for poking his nose into business that wasn't his own.

Razer spat at him. He knew he had to pull him out, just because if he left him there, Mizo would know he had left him to die and he had something to hide. Therefore he had to let him live but after this experience, he was sure Cutter wouldn't dare open his mouth with Razer's name in it ever again.

Cringing with utter disapproval, Razer reached in with a groan and pulled Cutter's body from the vehicle. Badly cut, burnt and injured, his bloody body dragged across the road away from the fiery site. Razer dragged him a safe distance away before leaning in and saying, "You're on your own". He dropped Cutter into the dirt, ripping a piece of loose cloth hanging from his shirt.

He wiped his blade with the cloth before throwing it back onto the ground, "I'll be needing this for later and I'm sure you know better than to get in my way again".

With that last comment, he turned and walked away, leaving a dangling and fearful body sprawled on the ground helplessly. Nightmares of Razer would haunt him for the rest of his life.

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Her fingers sprawled over Razer's shoulder demurely as she laughed. Her head thrown back and her hair halfway falling down her shoulder. Her stomach twisted in her own laughter as Razer just smirked, contently taking small sips of his wine. She had long forgotten the business like nature in which they were supposed to be conducting themselves. For tonight, they were just a man and a woman, losing themselves in wild storytelling and sweet wine.

"So, in the end, I had to be the one to personally guarantee the safety of the Eco delivery and my father's client ended up signing over the contract to me, seeing that I was more of a trustworthy business partner. Daddy was a bit upset about it, but I promised most of the funds would go to him and I kept my word…"

She was finishing off the rest of her father's famous Eco smuggling mess up story that was left hanging in the restaurant the week before. He had to admit, now that she was sober, the story was actually captivating enough to grab his attention. Nothing in women held his interest unless they served his benefit sexually, but with his lack for sudden sexual cravings, there was nothing else that would give him a reason to seriously sit down and intently listen to a woman. Listening to her however, was turning out quite pleasant.

She had a mind. She had ideas. She had sophistication and a feisty side to spice it up. She was also coy at times, innocent and mouse-like when cornered up under certain circumstances. Just when you think she's as harmless as can be, she'll capture you with a roguish smile before she pounces and makes her move. She was a jack in the box, you couldn't help but focus on her until she was ready to unveil herself with whatever surprise she was keeping to herself.

"Sounds like you are a very smart woman, you make very wise business choices," Razer lifted his wine glass to her in emphasis and she bopped her head in agreement.

"That I do," she smiled widely as she let her glass clink against the tip of his before they brought their cups back to their lips for another sip.

A shred of silence passed through the air. Now realizing her fingertips were so casually resting on his shoulder, she immediately snatched them away as if she were burned. Heat tingeing her cheeks, she turned away, her expression suddenly growing solemn.

Razer observed her sudden change. Her eyes suddenly looked so empty, almost for a moment they had lost the gleam that was shining in them just seconds before. He chose not to question it. He knew those dull eyes anywhere. They mirrored his own.

Her lips parted, as if to speak, but shut again. It seemed she was having trouble searching for words, or rather searching for another conversation starter that would stall her from going back to her own home. He could see it in her eyes. She knew they were just in this for the business and the casual pauses for drinks were just extras that would not interfere with their deal. She knew that this was inappropriate, as well as dangerous. Yet, she couldn't find the motivation to listen to the logic tugging in the rear of her mind, the logic that was telling her to go home where she belonged. Where she belonged…

Finally Razer placed his glass on the table next to the leather sofa. Dimming the lights with the turn of his fingers under the lamp, Rayn looked up to offer him a mildly baffled look. He still said nothing. It was as if they both knew the words that were being unsaid. She didn't want to go and he didn't care either way. It was nothing more and nothing less. Just an understanding they both shared from living the lives that fate had bestowed upon them.

He retreated to the kitchen, and soon enough the clamor of pots and pans caused Rayn to turn around. Staring at him in disbelief as he moved about, from his cabinets to his tall wide refrigerator, laying out spices and ingredients on his marble blue counter. For someone that lived alone he sure had a bundle of food to work with.

She finally worked up the nerve to stutter what was passing through her mind, "Y-you can cook?"

Razer's black brow arched at her with a knowing smirk, "Hmm, did I ruin your criminal, barbarian-like image of me?", at the end of his sentence, his thick knife came down chopping a green vegetable onto the cutting board.

Rayn continued to blink, now resting her chin on her wrists, watching him from the sofa. She shouldn't have been too surprised, seeing that he lived alone and unlike her, he had no servants to cater to him. For some reason this made some anger spark in her, like it was some sort of challenge. She was supposed to be the woman here and here this criminal was outdoing her. She wouldn't have it.

Without warning, Rayn stood up from the couch, removing her jacket. Razer eyed her questionably as she approached him, a determined look on her face.

"Move aside," she waved him away like an irritating insect.

"Excuse me?" He paused with the knife mid-air.

"You heard me. Move aside," Rayn managed to squeeze beside him, grabbing a knife for herself and another vegetable to cut up for the salad.

Razer shook his head and wore a lopsided grin, as if some inside joke had passed through his mind.

"What?"

"Nothing," he whispered_. Little does she know, she's helping me prepare her last meal. She is still too trusting of a woman._

Rayn eyed him from the corner of her eye. _I'm no fool, Razer. You're being too pleasant and too welcoming to me. Don't think I'm not suspicious._

In a second, both their eyes met in an awkward moment and they both offered a mild smile before returning back to their cutting.

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Razer stared at the sleeping curves of the woman draped over his leather couch. Wine glass still lightly resting in her thin fingers, her eyelids were closed and her mind was elsewhere in her sleep.

After dinner and another entertaining bit of conversation, Rayn's eyes had drifted from enduring such a long day's events. Razer didn't stop her.

Sometimes after a day such as this one, with so much death and so much angst, it was nice to sit back and see something as peaceful as this. Of course Razer knew better. Peace never lasted long, at least not until something else would come along to threaten it. Sadly, he'd be the one to come along and threaten this peaceful sight lying on his couch, clueless and angelically.

Even though she was now this feisty, risk-taking woman during the day, snapping her fingers at servants and pressing her knuckles on her hips at every thug in the Bloody Hook, when she slept, she looked completely different. There were no attitudes. She wasn't ordering anyone around or trying to get her way around things. She was just a helpless woman, floating amidst whatever sweet dreams lay in her mind.

Razer watched a bit longer, observing the bisque skin on the curve of her jaw to the dark messy strands that fall over her face. He observed how her legs curled up onto his cushions as if his home was hers, one shoe dangling from her toes. Her head lolled and leaned onto the arm of the sofa and there was not a care in the world evident in her face. Maybe that was what he looked like when he slept.

Finally he stood up and carefully pulled the wine glass from her fingers. The rim was still stained with her red lipstick. Placing it on the kitchen counter, Razer made his way to the knives by his sink. Next to them was a knife sharpener, in which he inserted his blade into it. With a brief grinding sound, his blade came out furnished and as sharp as store bought, glistening in the dim light.

Mizo's words echoed through his mind. 'You do know what will happen if you betray me, don't you?'.

Razer clenched his teeth as he slowly and skillfully slinked his way towards Rayn's body asleep in his living room. Her body coming into view, lifting in shallow breaths, Razer lifted the blade into the air. It was the same blade he had used on Cutter earlier.

His fingers reached forward to brush aside the loose hair hanging over the flesh on her neck. She didn't move. She was so exhausted. Razer neared the cold silver closer to the side of her neck.

"It's a shame, princess. It's really a shame…"

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**I'm so sorry that I left you guys hanging there. Okay maybe I'm not. :dodges rocks: Aww don't you guys love cliffies? Don't worry, it'll only get better.**

**Note to Luv2Game: You're beta had me crying almost to tears, my mother thought I was laughing at her and I was like no, nothing, I'm reading. As for the UR body jolting part, don't worry, as soon as I re-read it, I thought the same thing. I kept it that way, goes with the mood of the chap. Lets see if anyone else catches it.**


	7. Chapter 7 : Lesson Two Go for the Goal

**Extra kudos for my beta reader and buddy Luv2Game for taking the time to beta when life was slowing it down a bit. You rock.**

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**Chapter 7**

Darkness cradled around her peaceful body, lifting it across soothing, transparent waves. Her eyelids were heavy, and warm against the amber pupils that were usually so full of fire during the day. Distant humming sent her mind adrift, across dreams and sweet fantasies where no harm could ever reach her.

Yet within that same soothing fantasia, a pang of fear began to creep through her body. Adrenaline shook coldly in her veins at the feel of sharp, cold metal, pressed against the thin skin of her throat. Gasping for air, reaching for an unseen savior, she panicked. Her heart pumped wildly and her breath began being sucked away, as if from her very lips.

Her body rushed forward, as if lifting up from the deep ocean itself. Fingers clamping around her neck, her head swung around frantically from side to side. She had almost forgotten where she was for a moment and once she remembered, a moment of relief swept over her, then in another second, a moment of embarrassment. Heat instantly spread through her cheeks as she observed her surroundings.

_Did I- did I really fall asleep here? I should be ashamed of myself! Such carelessness!_

She fluttered her eyes around the now quiet, lonesome loft. Bright morning sunlight cast golden rays across all of Razer's usually dark and masculine furniture. There didn't seem to be any sign of him. Her eyebrows creased, the idea of him leaving her alone in his home very odd. They were still enemies- weren't they?

Noticing that her fingers were still around her throat, she slipped them down to her lap before swinging her feet to the plush, carpet beneath the sofa. Slipping on her shoes, she scolded herself for being such an easy target. What was she thinking?

She got up, brushing herself off a bit before she walked towards the kitchen. Briefly catching her reflection in the glass of a picture Razer had hanging on the wall, she cringed. Her hair was all over the place, her jacket off and her shirt unbuttoned on the top. She should've just pasted on sign on her body that said 'Take advantage, free limited time offer', she thought to herself.

Rolling her eyes, she proceeded back to the kitchen. A strong, welcoming smell lured her nostrils towards the silver sink. Smiling as she followed the aroma, she opened her eyes to see the coffee maker brewing; sugar packets and a mug set aside it. Underneath a spoon was another post-it. Razer must really love post-its. He didn't have to write much on them and he could stick them anywhere on the go.

She smirked at the thought, bringing the small note to her face.

'Wasn't sure how you liked the coffee. Lock up and leave. It isn't polite to fall asleep in someone's home and leave the door open when you leave'.

Somehow, she could just picture his smug face saying the words on the note. With another roll of her eyes, she shrugged and grabbed the coffee mug in defeat. This was strange, very strange. It was enough that she fell asleep in the house of the most dangerous, if not most merciless criminal in all of Kras, and now here she was receiving post-its and drinking from his coffee mug. Then the thought hit her full force.

Her nose crinkled up as her eyes stared blankly at the mug in her hands. His coffee mug…She was using his coffee mug? This was absurd. An image of his thin lips, drinking the hot, steamy liquid from its rim passed through her mind. She quickly shook it out. _How childish of me to think such things._

_Stop it!_ She continued to scold herself as she took out the coffee pot. Pouring black coffee into the mug, she took the liberty of washing the pot before setting it back in the maker. She sprinkled two packets of sugar and held the mug to her lips, watering her mouth at its sweet smell.

"I like it dark and sweet," she said to herself, although she was answering Razer's question on the post-it.

Not wanting to stay in his home any longer and save what was left of her dignity, she sprung out his front door once her coffee was finished. Another post-it on the inside of the door told her to put the spare key under the rug when she left. After locking it, she shoved the key under the 'Welcome' mat and walked down the trail to her vehicle.

Driving a few miles away from his home, her shame began to sway away. How could she be so foolish? She could've been killed!

She groaned at the thought of the paper work that was piling on her desk back at home, beckoning to be finished. She also needed to make a trip to the lab to check up on those antidotes being made for her drivers as well as speak to her spies on the investigation of Mizo's identity. The final race was a good three weeks away, at most. So much to do, and she had already wasted so much time because she allowed a victory to inflate her head.

Her palm slapped against her forehead as another thought finally dawned upon her.

_I'm such an idiot! Why did I put the key back! I could've had that to my advantage if I needed it later on. Some dangerous enemy I am…_

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Salty breeze whisked through the onyx hair of a very dark, looming figure standing along the shore. He could smell the ocean and the morning sun burned against his pale skin. The sand beneath his toes was wet and soft as he trotted beside the waves in thought.

_I'm such a fool!_

Razer lectured himself internally, pondering and listing off the possible reasons why he didn't kill her the night before. She was right there, in his grasp so helplessly. She was practically inviting him to finish her off. Somehow, just as he had the blade poised on her very neck, he froze. She sighed in her sleep, snuggling against her palm before stilling once again into slumber. The expression on her face brought about memories long forgotten. His fingers shook and he had no choice but to get out of there.

It was so easy when it came to Cutter. If he needed to, a woman like Haven's governor or even the red-haired hooker, he'd have no problem disposing of them. They brought out disgust in him. Yet when he looked at her, something in his stone-like heart softened, traveling back to a face that was similar to hers when she slept. That was so long ago. She had made him remember. Damn her for making him remember.

She was sleeping just like that, just as peacefully as Rayn was when they-

Razer turned his face from the sun, bringing his eyes to the coat and shoes he had draped over the rocks nearby. Shaking his head at himself, he sat down in the sand. He still needed to be away. He needed to forget again.

Fate had a cruel way of toying with him.

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Strong chemical smells that lingered in the lab were enough to make Rayn's eyes tear. She wore a mask whenever she walked into there. The fumes gave her a headache. She appreciated the scientific geniuses that money could buy, but the fumes, she would never get used to, or never understand how _they_ were accustomed to it.

Her heels tapped along green tiled floors, fluorescent lights blinked, struggling for life and cobwebs weaved in the corners. It was a large lab located in a warehouse reserved by Krew properties to conduct whatever experiments and tests needed. More white tiles spread along the walls as Rayn walked through the long halls to the main room. It looked more like an asylum than a laboratory. The rooms lined up along the halls with only a small window and numbers to the sides. It always caused a shiver to creep up her spine but she had no choice but to visit when needed.

Now entering the main room, she quickly walked toward the man in the farthest right corner. The walls flashed with colors from the bubbling glass tubes that stocked around the tables and shelves, other than that, the room was bland. The man stood tall and stiff, towering over his subordinates with his tree-like figure. His slim, long fingers waving around as he gestured orders, his dull grey eyes didn't even show a hint of shine, even with the light on them.

Now taking note of Rayn's presence, an attempted smile played upon his pale, sickly face. Rayn did her best not to cringe at the unpleasant sight his face mustered into when he attempted to smile. Still, if his looks didn't benefit him, it was his brains. That was why he was here.

"Ah, Ms. Krew, come to check up on our progress I gather?" his thin hands rubbed together, he studied her from under the heavy glass rims resting on the bridge of his nose.

"Yes, yes, I have. How are things running here?"

"Everything is running on schedule. We've already made four of the six antidotes you've requested. They will be completed by the time the final race arrives, as anticipated," he nodded at her in reassurance and she nodded back.

"Now are you sure they are safe to use? Have any side effects come up during the testing?" Her eyes narrowed into his with concern. Although she had tricked and blackmailed Jak's team into racing for her, she was a woman of her word. That was what a good businesswoman was. If she said she'd have the antidotes for them, she'd make sure that she did.

"Don't worry, madam, everything has been thoroughly tested and there are no side effects other than that effects that their supposed have," his fore finger poked the middle of his sliding glasses back up to his confident eyes.

"Very well, then. May I see them?"

"Yes, yes of course," the slinky scientist led her towards a small room, hidden in the back left corner of the lab. There was a glass window next to the door, and the door was made of shiny, silver steel. Once he opened it, cold mist came pouring through the crack of the door, onto her legs. She shivered with the cold air tingling her skin. Her teeth chattered almost instantly.

"I apologize, we keep our products fresh and untainted by refrigerating them".

"I see," Rayn followed him in. He led her toward a round capsule holder, in each capsule sat a row of fog-coated tubes. The antidote mixture was inside them.

Rayn nodded with satisfaction. Everything seemed to be going according to plan. Jak was winning the races and most likely he would anger Mizo enough to draw him out into her trap. The antidotes were just about ready. She had won the respect of Mizo's thugs from the race against Shiv. The Championship race would be coming in less than a month and there was no doubt in her mind now that she would win it.

However, the only doubt she had in her mind was whether or not Razer was actually on her side. Was she just amusing him while he gave her 'tid bits' of his wisdom? Was he just showing her the ropes because of the curiosity she aroused in him that day she left the warehouse? Was he only cooperating because of that bit of leverage she had on him? There were no guarantees that after Jak won the final race, that he would side with her, much less even stay in Kras. After all, everything that he owned, the life he was living would end once Mizo's power would come to an end.

Suddenly her eyes lit up with an idea. It was strange and risky, but it just might work. Just as fast as her great idea came into her mind, another thought came in and clouded the colorful rainbow she had just painted herself.

"Fool!" Once again her palm slapped against her forehead, causing her head scientist to jump in surprise. Thinking she was speaking to him, he fumbled with his fingers nervously and clueless, unsure of what he had done wrong. He looked like a lost child who had broken his mother's most precious China.

Her face softened, "I'm sorry. I wasn't speaking to you. I just remembered an important matter that I must tend to. I will be back another time to check on the progress once again". The scientist bowed his head, his cheeks flushing from embarrassment as he mumbled words of agreement and acknowledgement before he scurried out of the room.

As Rayn left, she shook her head at her own thoughts. She had just remembered that another meeting was arranged with the Crime Lords before the final race, a good week and a half away. She had no idea how to prepare for such a thing. Convincing a bunch of mindless criminals was one thing, but last time she attempted to stand against the most powerful and conniving men slithering in the undergrounds of Kras, they had made a fool of her. They were a lot harder to work with.

She couldn't challenge them to a race like she did with Shiv and although she had a vague idea how to go about it, maybe someone else's input wouldn't hurt, just in case. Besides, it would give her the chance to present an interesting offer to Razer, in which she was sure he would gratefully accept considering the benefits for the both of them. He just had to. She couldn't see why not.

Although Rayn drove away in her vehicle beaming with the confidence of her plan mapped out in her mind, it was unfortunate that she didn't know things wouldn't be as pleasant as she thought.

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After a long, uneventful day of drowning himself in past forgotten memories and angry regrets, Razer had retired for the evening to his loft. Without bothering to see to the hunger rumbling in his stomach, he threw all his garments on the wooden floors, making his way towards his bathroom. He smiled softly at the thought of a good hot shower awaiting him.

Entering his downstairs bathroom, he flicked on the lights to his left. With a click, the large spa-like décor was revealed and veiled with soft golden light. The cerulean and turquoise tiles lined up in checkerboard patterns across the walls in a single row, leading to the large white porcelain hot tub and single shower not too far beside it.

It was an open shower with the same tiles on the pattern covering the entire shower area, a silver drain marked the center of the floor and the showerhead hovered up on the wall. Below the showerhead were four tiles, set a tile apart each, with holes that also sprinkled out water. He also had an optional handheld showerhead on the side when he felt the need for it.

The toilet was below the light switch beside the door and next to that on the wall adjacent, was the fashionable sink, tall and slender with blue wave-like engravings. Birch colored towels sat upon shelves next to the sink and matched the other ornaments and towels lined up around the room.

It was surely a peaceful way to end a day. Sometimes he would stay in the hot tub for hours, closing his eyes with the candlelight kissing his eyelids and soft music in the background. Yes, he was much like a woman in that sense, craving peace at the end of a long hard day. Except with the life he lived, and the cards fate had dealt him, he was far from being a woman, and had every reason to want to retreat to an escape at the end of the day.

The hot water spraying onto his bare back was a welcoming feeling. He closed his eyes upon the comfort and just stood there. Entranced by the stress being relieved from his tense muscles, he allowed himself to forget the day's events. He inhaled the moist air through his nostrils deeply.

Running his thick fingers through his now soaked black hair, he sighed heavily. The long strands that were usually slicked back with hair products now dangled freely over his eyes. He would've stayed in there for hours maybe, if it hadn't been for the strange sound of his doorbell chiming through his lonesome loft. At first he thought it was his imagination and continued to pamper himself in the shower until he heard it again.

Mumbling curses under his breath, he stepped out of the shower. Reaching for a large towel, he wrapped it tightly around his waist and brushed his dripping hair back with a stroke of his hands.

The doorbell rang again and he hastened his steps into the hall and towards his front door. Puddles of water trailed behind him since he didn't have much time to dry himself. Thankfully his home was rarely ever cold.

"Damn it. Who in the hell-".

He hadn't the slightest idea who would dare ring his bell at such a time of night. No one knew where he lived and the few that did, dared not to go near the property unless it was an emergency. If it were someone trying to kill him, they would've made a much flashier entrance such as through one of his windows or shooting his door down. It intrigued him as well as angered him with all the strange possibilities of why he would magically have a visitor.

Finally reaching his door, with a gust of air he pulled it open roughly. The sight made his eyes widen.

"I'm sorry that- oh- oh dear-," at first Rayn was going to apologize for the surprise visit, knowing that it was quite a death wish to do so, but upon seeing the wet, dripping man only concealed in a towel, she couldn't help her words suddenly tangling inside her mouth. Her hands waved in front of her as if to protect her from the sight in front of her, her cheeks reddening from the awkward encounter.

Razer didn't seem to notice as he quickly poked his head out to look around. A dangerously stern expression on his face, he reached and pulled Rayn by the elbow inside his home. "Are you insane? Someone could have seen you!"

Now slamming the door behind him, his presence seemed to overwhelm her as he angrily glared at her. He waited for some explanation but all Rayn could do was continue to stumble with herself and swallow the nervous lump in her throat.

"What is the meaning of this?" He was beginning to grow impatient.

"I'm sorry. It's just that a meeting is coming up and I was hoping that I could request some of your input on the situation. I know this is inappropriate and the deal was on your terms but I just- I-".

His eyes fixed on her, the dim light giving them a darker hue. "Forget it. Best not to dwell on things already done," he almost spat at her before brushing past her.

_She must really want to die_, he thought. It was as if she were purposely putting herself into situations in which he would be tempted to carry out Mizo's plan to murder her. It was like she was a naïve, helpless little target that always wandered right into the bulls eye, his deadly dart aimed right at her.

With his back facing her, he turned slightly to speak, his voice deep and softer than before. "I'll be back shortly. Take a seat".

Rayn nodded in obedience and sat in one of his leather chairs. Razer headed toward the stairway, bending down occasionally to pick up the garments he had seemed to throw off his body upon entering his home. This only made Rayn redden more as she turned away, trying to deny her eyes the sweet morsel that was prancing before her. It made her nervous and even frightened that she would remotely even _think_ of being attracted to this man.

He was a cold hearted, sly, conniving, murderer. He had a history of sleazy crimes staining his record and even many she was sure not a soul knew of. Yet she couldn't help the way her eyes were tempted to notice the way his wet hair fell over his deep green eyes and the way the water trickled down the firm curves of his back.

It was a relief when he was finally out of her sight and up the stairs where his bedroom must've resided. She sighed and leaned back, but just as quickly sat back up. She fanned herself with her fingers. The air around her suddenly felt hot and muggy, the furniture seemed to suddenly stick to her skin. She was having an awfully hard time breathing.

Was this the first time she'd seen so much of a man's bare flesh? Was this the first time she had been in a man's home, alone and helpless? She knew that it was her imagination fondling with her but she couldn't help but feel that this visit felt rather intimate. She felt almost as if she were vulnerable herself. It made her embrace herself shamefully.

Not being able to take the hot air anymore, she stripped off her jacket. Soon enough his footsteps were heard trotting back down the stairs. She cleared her throat upon the new uneasiness in the atmosphere. He had thankfully put some slacks on, but chose to leave his chest bare, which unnerved her.

She gave her best efforts to keep her eyes on his when she spoke. _This is business Rayn. Do not let your mind wander to pointless things. _She reminded herself to keep from wanting to explore his skin with her virgin eyes.

If Razer noticed the effect he had on her, he did a great job hiding it. As usual, he was calm and expressionless. His anger had simmered away. He sat across from her in a similar chair.

"So what has inspired you to step onto my front porch this evening?"

Rayn crossed her legs, back into 'boss' mode to tell him the story of the upcoming meeting and her feelings towards it.

Razer's fingertips drummed against each other as he thought, his elbows propped up on his knees as he leaned forward. "Lucien. I've heard of him. I'm not surprised that he is the problematic one for you".

"It seems he has it out for me. Just when I think I've grabbed the attention in the meeting, he always finds a way to draw it away and cause the others to lose trust in me," Rayn continued, now more relaxed and less focused on Razer's body at the moment.

"In that case then, you have to grab his attention since he seems to be the leader of the bunch," Razer flashed Rayn a strange look she had never seen before. Daring and untamed almost, his intentions were unclear the way his eyes drank in the soft hair framing around her face. She raised a brow at him, both in suspense and fear.

Without another word Razer got up and approached her. She watched him, her body stiffening with anticipation. Electricity jolted through her shoulders at the unexpected groping of his hands on them. She gasped in surprise.

"Wha- what are you doing?" She demanded, wide-eyed and feeling a bit desecrated.

"Just trust me. This'll help". With that she had no choice but to relax her shoulders to the best of her abilities. What was it like to have a murderer's hands on you in such a way? It was terrifying and death seeking and yet, at the same time thrilling since his thick, masculine hands seemed to hold no threat against her - at least not at the moment.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she soon felt his fingers in her hair. Her nails dug in the leather she was sitting on. Her heartbeat felt like surround sound and she was sure that he heard it.

Without realizing it, her eyes closed at the sensation of his hands in her hair. For some odd reason, it felt somewhat pleasing to feel his fingers gently release the hairpins one by one. It felt even more sensational when her long grayish blue hair fell down her back and his fingers began to stroke apart the braid she had weaved, massaging her scalp. She had no idea that her neck began to turn and her lips parted with the warm feeling flooding from her scalp to the end of her toes. She could smell the fresh scent of the shampoo she used in her morning shower, pressed in the damp locks that were buried beneath her bun.

Her eyes opened again with a touch of his hands on her shoulders, now he stood in front of her. She looked up at him, her hair waving down along her neck. Some strands fell over the side of her head and he squinted at her, obviously not completely satisfied yet.

He reached forward, his fingers brushing the hair on the side and grabbing more locks to bring to the front. Finally he stepped back, appreciating his 'masterpiece'. His chin on his knuckles, he gave her a sideways look and a smug grin.

"There, now you look like you're ready for business".

Rayn got up, running her own fingers through her loose hair and searching the room for a mirror. Razer pointed towards the back bathroom and she walked toward it. It was still fogged up slightly and the air mildly moist. She approached the mirror above the sink and wiped it with her hand. Once the image of her became clear, she tilted her head.

She had always had her hair down in the privacy of her own home. When she was a little girl, she often decorated it with bows and pins of the sort and as a teenager; the long locks often caught the eyes of male admirers in school. It was in her boarding school that she had eventually learned to pin it up.

It was one of the girls who weren't too fond of her popularity and her power over people. In the middle of the night, the girl had snuck into her dorm and snipped off her beautiful locks in her sleep. Since then she had learned to keep it pinned up away from envious eyes or sharp scissors. She had also grown it long again as a way of proving that she was not broken. Of course, she eventually got her revenge but that was another story long forgotten.

She hadn't stopped to appreciate the long strands of shiny hair for a wide period of time. Now here she was, gazing at an attractive woman, long waves of gray, painted with blue highlights as it danced over her slender shoulders. Soft and lightly scented with erotic flowers and fruits.

Razer came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders and she could swear she saw a glint of pride in his eyes. It was like he was the artist that helped to bring an old painting back to its prime. Her hands shook when he suddenly leaned in, his chin just hovering an inch or so over her shoulder as he whispered in her ear.

"Just take this, and everything you have into that meeting. Trust me, your natural feminine finesse will work to your benefit".

"You think this will really work. I mean, he's not just some rogue in the bar…".

He dipped his head in reassurance, "It'll work. If I know anything about the kind of man Lucien is, this will work. Another lesson, if you want something bad enough, go and get it. Know your consequences but don't fear risks."

Suddenly it dawned upon her that they were standing in his bathroom. Her hair down provocatively and his hands on her shoulders. Did he not take notice of this? Was this just as comfortable as a stroll in the park? Then again, with the life he lived, most likely anything this minor was a stroll in the park. As for her, she felt like a million spiders were crawling under her skin.

Before she could feel any more awkward, she noticed a long, jagged string of light skin, trailing down his shoulder into his inner elbow. Without meaning to, her brows creased with question. She didn't realize she was staring until he noticed and instantly ripped his hands off of her as if her skin had just scalded him.

She shook her head, reaching out to grab his shoulder before he turned away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare. That was very rude of me". Her fingers on his shoulder calmed him, just like an animal trainer with a wild tiger. She felt his shoulders ease but his jaw still seemed tightened.

It was the scar he acquired when he had escaped his country, escaped prison and torture. His skin had got caught on the last barb wired fence to freedom, ripping a long wound from his shoulder to his elbow. His mind was focusing on escaping at the time so the pain didn't really faze him. It was a shame that the freedom that he thought was a blessing ended up being the curse that currently lingered over his life like an un-rested ghost.

"I think, you need to leave now," his voice was so low, Rayn didn't seem to hear it. Instead she pressed on, prying into a life that he'd rather not remember.

"Did you get that scar…back then? When you-"

"I said, it's time for you to go home," his voice this time was clear, although not loud and too angry, at least not yet.

Rayn spun around to face him, her fingers still on his shoulder. She met his eyes, flaring with fire and at the same time, the fire seemed to be dying into ashes. His eyes stood on hers, partially wondering why the hell she wasn't running out his door in fear of her life and partially because this moment between them was growing weirder by the minute. Still, things like this made him curious, and curiosity was hard to resist.

He watched her as her fingers left his shoulder, slowly and cautiously moving toward the scar. Her nails softly grazed it and he stared. He couldn't explain why but he just stared so intently at her small hand, trailing two fingers slowly down his scar.

Her eyes shifted from his scar to his eyes and back, watching intently as if she were afraid he'd bite her at any moment. She didn't know what made her do it. What was making her have the bravery to touch him in this way. What was giving her the audacity to pry into business she knew was not her own. Something about his wild eyes made her sympathize for him. With his story and the way he was brought into this life, she couldn't help but feel a slight pity for this man.

Although he was accustomed to the blood lusting life he was in, she couldn't help but feel that their eyes held something similar. Before she could let her thoughts sink in further, just as her fingers were about to meet his elbow, he grabbed her wrist. She gasped in both fear and surprise, now trembling her eyes at him even though she tried to appear strong.

His grasp on her was firm but not painful. His eyes though, were something different. They frightened her and made her blood run cold. This must've been the last look his victims would see before their deaths, she decided. It surely made the world around her freeze and it looked like she was staring at Satan himself. He looked mad.

"R-Razer-"

"Leave!" This time his voice was angry and loud. He threw her wrist away like leftover food and brushed past her outside the bathroom. She followed.

"B-but there's another reason why I came. I came here-" she pleaded as he began to lead her to his door.

"What did I tell you about prying into business that's not your own!"

Just as he reached the door, it was like a volcano erupted inside of her chest, causing Rayn to stomp with demand. Tightening her fingers, she straightened her posture, not willing to accept refusal.

"Now you listen here! I came here to present an offer! I think it will be beneficial to the both of us" She didn't succeed at making him turn back to her but he stopped at the door. Sensing that he was listening, she continued. She made her way to her jacket draped over the sofa's arm and pulled out some papers.

"Now I know that you are here illegally and I know that after Mizo is done with, all the things that are yours will crumble along with him," she hurried on before he could respond with a threat to saying so much of his personal information in the conversation.

"Well I've been thinking. You are an immense asset to Mizo and Kras City's combat sport. You know Kras like the back of your hand as well as other cities and the people working in the undergrounds. So I was trying to think of a way to solve both our problems. I need someone to be my right hand man and you need a way to retain your current lifestyle, if possible legally".

Razer couldn't help but scoff at the word 'legally'. What the hell was legal in Kras anyway? What difference did it make?

Her hands swatted down some papers against the door he was staring at to avoid her gaze. His eyes narrowed into slits at first, and then widened.

_What the-_

"Marriage papers," she stated matter in factly. "Consider it business and nothing more. Their not really real, but real enough. Since I will own everything after Mizo's destruction, it would be wise to marry such a powerful woman so that the things you currently have, can stay yours. You will have your life and I will have my right hand man".

Silence filled the room. Her heart pumped with anticipation. She wasn't sure if he was going to answer and just as she opened her lips to say something else, a strange laughed erupted from him, almost a cackle. It started low and then grew into a fit of laughter as he rested his palm on the door.

Rayn was confused. What in the name of Mar was he laughing at? Was this so amusing to him? Was her offer funny or was it her in general? She couldn't figure it out. Or had he just lost his mind?

Slowing down in his laughter, he ordered her again, "Goodbye, dear. I think it's in your best interest to retire for the night".

_There he goes calling me 'dear' again._

Rayn stood firm. "What is so funny? What's wrong with the offer?".

Her confidence and audacity was shattered in a matter of seconds when he yanked the door open, causing the papers to fly and sway into the air. She didn't have the chance to reach for them and collect them. His icy glare froze all her intentions and her once dominating words.

"Leave now!" He grabbed her wrist, this time not as nicely as the first time and successfully pulled her onto his doorstep. With another gust of wind, the door slammed shut in her face, her loose hair blew back from the impact.

Rayn stood there speechless. Now fuming with anger and embarrassment, she marched to her car, stomping her heels defiantly.

I'll be back Razer. One thing you'll learn is that I can become very persuasive in my negotiations and I do not accept refusal.

She drove off with flushed cheeks and Razer watched her from the small glass panes on the side of his front door. Once she had driven away, Razer turned back to look at his loft floor. Papers messily sprawled out about the entrance.

He shook his head. _Marriage papers. That woman must be insane. I'd much rather crawl my way back up from scratch then to submit myself to another life of slavery to someone._

He kicked the papers with his bare feet as he walked past them.

_She really deserved a knife to her throat after that…_

He looked down upon the scar she was touching only moments ago. He couldn't understand why he allowed her to get that close. It may have been his own fault for provoking her to feel that comfortable with him to make such an offer. Still, she should know her boundaries.

Gazing upon the layout of his home once more, a thought tugged in the back of his mind in which he eagerly ignored. He knew why he let her. He knew why he tolerated this much but he denied himself the answers.

It was because she reminded him of _her_. It was because, this loft was the most expensive, most elegant and loneliest places in all of Kras.

He shook the thoughts from his head vigorously as if expecting them to tumble out from his ears. The perfect remedy for this, he thought, would be a hot shower.

**---------------------------------------------**

**I really, really, really enjoyed writing this chapter. Can't you tell:wide grin:**


	8. Chapter 8 : A Racer's Past Part I

**Finally it is here! I apologize for the tardy update but preparing for my college portfolio review (which went well), and work had pulled me away from finishing this chap. I couldn't sit and write without being interrupted or lulling off into sleep. Well, its long and I hope that makes it up to you.**

**-------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter 8**

Bitter. Sour. Stomach - churning. Throat - burning.

This didn't even _begin_ to describe the entourage of disgusting feelings that his body was enduring. Having his head hunched over a toilet, hacking up the last of his mind, was hardly the image that the public imagined when they thought of such a prized racer. Yet here he was, hands clawing the cold tiles, jaw hanging like an exhausted animal, lips wet from the acidy bodily fluids that his stomach had rejected.

Sweat beaded along his bare chest, occasionally making his fingers slip and slide along the floor. A jackhammer was pounding him between his eyes. The room spun whenever he tried to get back up. Most likely, he'd have to fall asleep in his bathroom again.

This only happened when he dwelled too much on the things that had past. The thinking led to nightmares, and altogether, he ended up next to his toilet. He couldn't explain why his body had such a violent reaction, he just did. This had rarely happened since he managed to escape such deep thought within the past few years.

It was because of that _wench_, that _Krew princess_, that his mind was torturing him and his body felt the lashes.

With a deep, ragged breath, he threw himself to the wall beside the toilet. Wiping the sides of his mouth with his fingers, the room started to spin again, into a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. He winced and closed his eyes. The coolness of the tiles behind his head relaxed the throbbing a bit. All he could do was curse her in his mind, for taking him back to where he didn't want to be.

It happened so long ago - too long ago. He didn't want to remember…

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"Quick! Into the closet," whispered a young, frantic woman, waving her hand desperately towards the hiding place in which he knew all too well.

Crawling into a pile of familiar clothing and items, cobwebs stretched its fingers in the corners to welcome him, and he huddled his knees. Quickly, the woman threw the clothing on top of him, careful to cover every possible inch of skin on him and nodded when satisfied. She slammed the door shut with a firm twist of the door before she ran to the kitchen.

He heard them. The dogs. They were barking, loudly demanding entrance at their front door. He could hear them clawing their nails into the wood and the grunts of the government soldiers passing their orders to one another.

A loud, violent knock was heard against the front door. A threatening voice howled and it seemed to echo in his ears, pound through his head and under his skin to make him tremble.

He knew he had to be still. He knew he had to be quiet. Don't move. Don't breath.

His heart stopped the moment the dogs grew louder and he heard the footsteps tapping along the tiled floors. They were inside. She had to let them in. She had no choice.

Chanting silently to himself, he closed his eyes, listening to his heart thrashing about. His nails dug into his knees, already raw from sitting on the hard floors and cleaning. It stung, but he didn't care.

"Where is he?" The rough male voice demanded.

He heard a small yelp, which may have been the man pulling her by the arm. He could sense that she hid the fear in her voice. He could picture her, looking the man straight in the eye with her green ones, a wave of raven hair shadowing one eye as the rest fell down her back. She'd ball her fists and stand firm no matter what, never showing the slightest sign that she was lying.

"There is no one. I told you," he heard her say to him.

She gasped with another forceful tug of her arm. The man's fingers dug into her skin more painfully and she winced. A sick smile crossed his shady features.

"Don't lie, girly. Someone said they saw him come in here sometime today. There's a child here," his bearded face drew closer to hers.

She shook her head, "Well, they saw wrong. No one is here. I'm by myself and my parents have been long dead. Does it look like I have enough to feed others?" She challenged him with a look.

The soldier eyed her suspiciously, glancing down at the dogs that were sniffing around the scraps of food laid out on the table. The animals seemed to cringe at the food, as if even _they_ wouldn't eat it. The soldiers acknowledged this with cold humor in their eyes.

Without warning, the bearded soldier yanked the woman to him, bringing his face dangerously close to hers. His cynical smile stretched across his aged face as he inhaled the young girl's sweet smell. She shuddered with the new found threat of his face near the crook of her neck.

_Rosetta…_

Meanwhile, the boy in the closet tried to tame his sudden urge to burst out and grab the nearest weapon to attack that perverted soldier. He didn't like the idea of _anyone_ touching his sister. _No one _should ever touch her that way. He hung his head, knowing at the moment, he had no choice but to ignore it. She would want it that way.

The gruff soldier grunted at her, drinking her figure in with his eyes before nodding to his subordinates. The rest of them retreated back outside and the man once again leaned toward Rosetta, his grip still painfully tight on her arm.

"If I hear you've been lying, you'll be sorry" He threw her arm down and walked out the front door. His hunting dog sniffed around one last time before it followed him out. Rosetta stood there letting her eyes burn on the back of the soldier's head. Her fingers gently rubbed the painful throbbing where his fingers had dug into her flesh.

After they had vanished into the streets to terrorize another family, Rosetta hurried to slam the door shut. With the sound of safety singing to his ears, Razer came falling out of the closet. His dirty, scabbed palms hitting the floor as he spilled out with clothes still hanging onto him.

"They're gone. The hunters…" That's what she liked to call them – child hunters. Soldiers from the government who'd scout homes for children to drag to the warehouses. Child labor was no crime here. It provoked many families to hide their children upon the usual search in fear that they may be taken away or even killed. If your child had a disability and was unable to work, they 'disposed' of him, labeling him as a waste of nine-month labor.

He'd seen them drag one away before. Poor boy lost a limb through a machinery accident and they pulled him out into the streets. The mother screamed and cried helplessly and the soldier only spat back at her, advising she'd forget him and have a child more 'useful'. He hadn't seen the kid since.

"What the hell, Rosetta?" Razer spat at his sister, earning him a shocked expression. "Why'd you let him touch you like that!"

"I'm sorry, I was under the impression that I didn't have much choice. I'd much rather be thrown around than have you taken away from me," she glared at him angrily, although she understood his reason for being so frustrated.

He was helpless. Too young to work outside like she did. He couldn't help her clean the sidewalks just to give themselves the scraps of food they survived on. He couldn't barge out of the closet and protect his big sister. He couldn't do anything. All he could do was clean up the house until she returned from a long day's work.

Rosetta sighed, now transforming her weary expression to a cheery one. Bringing her dusted fingertips to his dark, messy hair, she patted him consolingly.

"I think a time like this calls for some food, huh?"

Razer nodded, his lips pursing with hidden frustration still visible. The idea of a meal was supposed to lighten the moment, but upon walking to the round table, it only made things more depressing. There, lying on two cracked plates, were two small pieces of meat, brown at the edges, and green peas scattering about.

They couldn't have more. There wasn't enough money for more. There wasn't enough food in the market for more. The government made sure of that. They rationed everything from the peas on your plate to the squares of toilet paper you used. You had to make of what you had.

Razer poked his fork into the green orbs on his plate, his face slumped into his palm. Rosetta couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head upon the sight of him.

"What's wrong?" Razer's eyes glanced up at her in curiosity. Rosetta calmed her laughter, placing her fingertips to her lips.

She was beautiful, Razer thought. Although her hands were cut and her cheeks stained with dirt, she was the most precious thing in the world. She was all he had and he couldn't remember what his parents were like. At sixteen, four years older than he, there was no presence more warming than hers. For all he knew, Rosetta may not have even been his real sister, but he would never know, nor would he ever question it.

She was his diamond in the rough. No matter how black the world was, she was the glimmering jewel to set light to it.

"Nothing. You just look so stubborn. It's amusing," Rosetta poked the end of his nose with her fingertip and he blinked in reaction.

Razer responded with a tip of his tongue protruding from his mischievous lips. She continued to laugh.

"So what will it be today? Any cuisine in mind, young master?" Rosetta batted her eyelashes at him. They liked to play this game, the one where they'd pretend they were rich and had luxurious dishes to indulge in.

"Pasta as a main dish sounds quite delightful, wouldn't you say?" Razer played along, twirling his fork in his plate, intertwining imaginary noodles.

Rosetta nodded in agreement, "Yes, I agree. Pasta it is. We wouldn't want to disappoint our young Lord, now would we?"

Razer wrinkled his nose. "I hate it when I'm the Lord. Why can't I serve you instead?"

Rosetta poked her fork into her peas, giving him a cocky grin. "Because I'm the oldest and the oldest decides everything".

Razer mumbled under his breath as he took a bite into his bland food. He tried to imagine it as pasta, but it wasn't working as well as it used to when he was younger. After a few minutes of silence, Rosetta took notice of the glum look on her brother's face.

"Things will get better, you know. One day, you will be fine dining, drinking wine and having all the lady fans swarming about you".

Razer brought his gaze to her face, which seemed to be staring into the distance somewhere. It was as if her eyes were staring into a dream world that only she could see.

"I doubt that," Razer grumbled, looking away from her. "I can't even do anything for you so I doubt I could ever do anything for myself".

Her motherly touch on his hand caught his attention. His cheeks flushed red as she patted his hand on the table.

"I will repay you for all you've done. You can count on that," Razer said in a firm, almost unrelenting tone, despite the soft touch on his knuckles. He was serious. She could see the burn in his eyes.

"All I want - is for you to live a happy life. Even if I have to sacrifice my own" Rosetta's eyes glowed with sentiment. Her head dipped to the side and Razer only turned his palm over to pinch her fingers in his.

"You won't have to. I'll only be happy when you are," his eyes blazing with ambition must've been the first sign that he was becoming a man.

If only…he had stayed a child forever.

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He didn't remember how it happened. He didn't remember what led him there. Somehow, fate met curiosity in a venture into the streets one late afternoon. His sister had been gone all day, and he had a feeling that she wouldn't return until the sun came up again. At fifteen, Razer was tiring of the routine life he was living and was looking for some excitement to arouse him outside.

What he found, would change his life forever.

Wandering into alleyways and stumbling into a deep stairway led him to an undiscovered grotto – or what he deemed was undiscovered. Upon the sight of the hidden doorway, leading deeper into the ground, he lit up with the idea of taking his sister here for whenever they wanted to get away from life. No one would ever find it. Perhaps that was why he found what he did there.

Faintly in the distance, a rumble of voices merged to create a roar, a cheer maybe. His nostrils flared to the odor of motor oil and burning rubber. For some reason, it was pleasure in a scent.

Screeching tires called to his ears that lifted to follow the sound. As he crept closer, a light at the end of the grotto caught his eyes. As he drew nearer, the sounds grew louder and the smells stronger.

Finally, as he came upon a few tanks of fuel piled up by an exit of some sort, he took shelter behind their shadows. What his eyes feasted upon made them wide in their sockets.

The roar belonged to a crowd of men, obviously wealthy, with golden glasses and fur-coated women on their arms. Swiveling their hats into the air, they yelled and grunted. The women wore rouge of all colors and squeezed long cigarettes between their painted lips. The men stood clapping, money waving in their hands.

Razer was astounded by the sight. A large racetrack lay out before him, simple and round, carved out of clumps of dirt. Shiny metal glimmered in the light as the few vehicles zooming down the tracks swerved through the dirt. Sending brown spatters into the air and smoke curling behind their wheels, it was the most intoxicating sight he had ever seen.

He had heard of this. Combat Racing, they called it. And it was illegal in this country.

His jaw hung open as he watched the race. Numerous expensive cars dashing by, smoking the air and making the crowd roar louder. Fire branching into explosions on the far end and drivers with smug, blood streaked faces drove by with a look of accomplishment.

He was so pulled in by the excitement of it all, he failed to realize half his body was peeking out from his hiding place into the light. His fingers planted into the mud as his eyes were glued to the race and drunk on the sounds and smells surrounding him.

He was oblivious to the presence approaching him.

"See something you like, boy?"

Razer gasped, his eyes wide with panic as he shriveled back into the shadows in fear. His eyes met with the charcoal-grey ones of a middle-aged man, puffing on a thick foreign cigar. His gray hairs hung to the sides of his round head, trying to fight the age that was pulling them off his scalp. His cheeks were plump and his goatee was curly and stretched to his ears. Judging by the name brand suit, and the golden cigarette case in his front pocket, he too, was wealthy.

"It's alright, don't be alarmed," the stranger comforted him, encouraging him to come back into the light. Tightening a suspicious brow at the man, Razer allowed himself to be coaxed back into the light.

The man looked down at him, flicking his cigar into the mud and stubbing out its embers with his heel. "You look like a man in need of a job".

Razer's interest was pecked, and so he drew nearer. Noticing his attention on him, the man continued, "See that beauty over there?"

Razer followed his gaze to a black vehicle parked in the tracks. The race was over and that vehicle was the winner. The edges were sharp, the metal was smooth. It was by far the most daring and gorgeous car out there.

"It's a Havoc 1980, with horsepower like you'd never believe. That right there is a special model, monster and class in a vehicle," Razer's eyes bulged in awe and wonder as he bopped his head at the man's words, almost puppet-like.

The stranger grinned, "How would you like to get your hands on that? We can start you off just cleaning it up after races and see what we can do from there. I'm sure you're in need of the money".

Razer fluttered his eyes up at the man. Why was he being so kind to him? Why was he offering him this kind of opportunity on the spot without even knowing him? There _had _to be a catch. Something in the man's grey, icy glare told him this wasn't simply an act of charity.

Razer stood up from the ground, wiping his hands on the front of his slacks. His body was lean and tall, his once young, round features now transforming into sharper curves. His jaw line was strong, his shoulders broadening with age. As fascinated as he was with the hidden underground track, he was no fool.

"Why me?" His emerald eyes showed drive, desire, and an ambition to reach beyond a world he was closed off from.

The stranger laughed. "Because you only have two options. Seeing that you came upon this rather secretive place by accident and only few people know of this, it would be deadly to just let you wander off without purpose. Besides, you'd rather be useful then _dead_ wouldn't you?"

Razer nodded in understanding. Like they say, curiosity killed the cat. He wasn't supposed to find this place but since he did, it was either become of use to them or they would be sure to 'silence' him from spilling the whereabouts of this unlawful event.

"Good. They refer to me as Lord Burgra here. I conduct these races with a few others so that the wealthy can come down and satisfy their blood lusts. Disgusting people, the rich are, getting joy from watching peasants kill each other like animals out on the tracks just to get a little cash in their pockets and enjoy some competition. Even many of the drivers come for the kills. They like the idea of danger lurking around the corners. Cruel sport, but it pays".

Leading Razer into the light with a palm on his shoulder, they stepped into the sidelines. Some of the fanatics in the crowd took notice of the dirty, young man with cringes of disapproval and disgust, others with devilish smirks.

He inhaled deeply, taking in the pungent scent of fuel being pumped. His eyes were scratchy from the dusty air. He could almost imagine what it must've felt like to grip his hands onto that leather steering wheel and go faster than the speed of light. The feeling must've been exhilarating, although fatal.

Burgra shook his shoulder with a husky laugh. His open palm cut through the air as if to show him another side, where the grass was greener. Razer couldn't help but rub his knuckles with anticipation.

"Welcome to the games, my boy. This is where you'll become a man".

And with that, he handed Razer his very first cigarette…

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"Rosetta!"

"Brother, where are you? Razer!" His sister's voice shrieked with excitement the instant he returned home. It was like they were kids again, overflowing with joy and practically frolicking across the floor.

"What? What's the matter?" Razer called out, arms flailing about to meet his sister's across the small three-room dwelling in which they called home.

Delicate fingers ran to cling the sides of his arms, shaking them about as she smiled at him madly. Razer was deeply disturbed. Never had he seen his sister this excited about something.

"We'll never have to worry about money again!" she cried up at her brother. Although he was younger, in time he did indeed grow taller than she.

Razer's eyes enlarged with surprise. Did she know about what happened in that hidden grotto? Had she somehow found out before he could tell her? Was that why she was bursting with happiness, because now her brother could put in his equal share of funds by cleaning up cars? He wasn't offered much pay, but considering the dangerous circumstances, he had no choice but to agree to Lord Burgra's proposition – at least for the time being.

"I've been offered a new job! I was cleaning the sidewalks, like I always do, and this man walked by and offered me a job! We won't have to eats peas anymore!" Her small hands shook him vigorously, as if shaking would deepen his belief in her.

Razer failed to notice it at first, but upon looking at her fingers in his arms, her nails were painted nicely in a plum rose color. He blinked and mentally slapped himself. There were other things he didn't notice at first, either. A tint of rouge highlighted her cheeks and a touch of gloss glistened on her lips. Her hair had been combed and shone radiantly in the dim light glowing from the candles that lit their home.

Razer was speechless. His head pulled to the side as he stared. The pale moonlight on her creamy skin only complimented her now colored face. She was as radiant as ever – and it wasn't the makeup. It was her bright smile.

To be honest, as much as her beaming smile was the loveliest thing he set eyes on for years, he silently wished she were smiling because of him. Silently, he wished it were he that was announcing such news and making her happy.

"Razer?" Her grip on his arms had now softened, her large eyes looking up at him with concern.

He shook his head and regained his composure. He hadn't realized that he was standing there, staring blankly like a dead fish while she ranted on about her good news. He forced on a gentle smile as he brought his fingers to her black mane. Running them through her bangs affectionately, he laughed.

"That's wonderful, Rosetta. I couldn't be happier," his voice was mild and unconvincing. Her eyes squinted at his in doubt, but the sorrow in them somehow told her not to question it.

She reached up to tangle her fingers with his, "We're okay now. I told you, things were going to get better someday".

He bopped his head, "Seems you lived up to your word". He released his hand from her grasp to ruffle her head and poke a finger into her forehead. She stared at him, mouth slightly parted and expression clearly confused.

"Razer? Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

"Not at all. So what is this job exactly? Have they paid you already?" His brows gestured towards the sudden change in her appearance. Her face was not only clean but made up. Her cheeks reddened and she looked to the floor shyly.

"W-Well, the man decided that I needed to look more presentable for the position, and so he accompanied me to get manicured and pedicure. Oh Razer, it was wonderful. I've never painted my nails before!"

His smile was wide, this time genuine. His head fell back in laughter. When had he ever seen his sister act so girlish? With the lives they had – she hadn't much choice but to grow into a woman just so that she could look after him. Now, here she was, wearing pretty lip-gloss and twirling strands of her hair in her fingertips.

"That's great-" he sat in one of their wooden chairs tucked into their round kitchen table. She eagerly followed and sat across from him. A palm flattened onto his smirking lips, trying to contain the amusement from watching her bounce in the chair.

"So what exactly does this position entail, exactly? You still haven't told me"

"Oh, well um-" Suddenly she looked away again, this time not shyly. He could swear he saw a flicker of guilt cross over her features. "Well, he works in this place called _The Reizend_ and he's in the entertainment business. I'll probably be doing some backstage work until I can audition for the stage". Her brother continued to nod his head as he listened, soaking in her every word and expression. Teeth bit down on her bottom lip nervously, "The only thing – is that it's a night shift job".

"Oh – oh, I see," He wasn't sure how to respond to that. He wasn't crazy about the idea of his sister working during such dark hours but then again, she was older than he and surely she knew what she was doing. After seeing her fluttering through the room to him, he wouldn't whisper a word to ruin her moment.

"I apologize. That must worry you," her folded hands clasped coyly in her lap.

Biting the inside of his cheek prevented him from spilling the truth to his now floating angel. "Not at all. I'm happy for you. If you ever need me to come by and pick you up, I'll be there at the snap of your fingers. That's what brothers are for".

Her hands waved in front of her, her rump hopping up from the chair before settling back down. "No, that won't be necessary. I'll be fine".

"Are you sure?" Razer pushed and she bopped her head briskly.

"Yes, yes, I'll be fine. If anything comes up, I'll let you know," a gentle smile spread across her lips and he returned it with one of his own.

A yawn met her smiling lips and Razer caught one in his. Both yawning and pressing their hands to their mouths, Rosetta grinned. "I think now it would be best to sleep. I have to start my new job tomorrow".

Razer nodded in agreement and they followed one another to the futons that lay on their floor in the next room. Cotton peeked out from various rips and tears in their sheets, a deep shade of russet. Slipping their bodies in, they were cloaked into the heat of the dusty floor and the comfort of sleep welcomed their tired eyes.

"Good night, Razer," she whispered across from her where her brother lay. Her face nuzzled into the folded sheet in which surrogated as a pillow.

"Good night, Rosetta…"

As he watched her lashes fall heavily to meet her cheekbones, he couldn't help the warmth that flooded his heart. A synch of guilt pecked at him. As much as he wanted to tell her about his 'new job', he decided it would be best to keep it to himself for now. For now, he'd let her enjoy the spotlight, let her continue her role as big sister.

In the meantime. he'd start his new job as well, saving whatever he could from the money given to him. Shadowing himself in secret, he'd have to support them without her knowing. Even though he wished he could tell her about his new role in their small pair of a family, somehow he just couldn't stand to steal her joy.

Emerald eyes lowered over the sleeping features on her face, lips parted with small breathy sighs and body heaving with peaceful, even breaths.

_Sleep well, Rosetta. Your little brother will be here to take care of you, whether you know it or not._

Two months had passed since that night. Wordlessly, they'd part ways as the sun would begin to set over the horizon. She'd depart to her new job as he would his. He would make sure only to step out once she was out of sight so that he could make off secretively without suspicion. By the time they'd both return to their small, rotting home, they were both too tired to share too much of a deep conversation.

He did see an improvement in their meals, now consisting of more than vegetables and a small piece of meat. Now there were various kinds of meats, desserts and one afternoon she surprised him with a serving of pasta, just as he used to fantasize about when he was a child.

Drunk on their happiness of their now more filling meals, they seemed to forget to question each other's business. Neither asked what had taken their time at night or why the other was so tired during the day. Neither asked how much or when they were paid. Although both held their hidden suspicions from viewing their tired eyes and vague details of their night's events, neither would dare speak of it further than needed.

His presence at the underground track was becoming more eminent as the days passed. Passer bys took notice in the shine of the metal and the tightness in the bolts of every vehicle he handled. He was a fast learner, and within two months, he was already familiar with everything from tune-ups to oil changes. He could tell a car's year and model just by looking at it and could tell if it was modified by taking a look beneath the hood. He had become a favorite of the other handy men that hung loose in the sidelines, ingesting the tire smoke in the air and the smoke from their cigarettes.

From time to time, he was even allowed privilege to drive damaged vehicles from the tracks into the garage. Soon enough, he had forgotten about the blackmail that obligated him into this unlawful job. He had forgotten about the little pay. The blackened grease smoothing along his fingers and the sweat dripping down his spine was enough to forget.

It seemed that Lord Burgra took notice in this boy's transformation, from the way his eyes solemnly studied the races to the coolness in his expression when he wiped the blood streaks from the windows. He was soaking in this atmosphere, taking it into his blood as if he belonged there all along. Content that the kid had indeed kept his mouth shut, as well as provided necessary aid to the races, Lord Burgra was stricken with an idea he was sure would make Razer's day.

One early evening, Burgra made his way towards his new apprentice. His knees were embedded in the mud and soot spotted his black hair hovering over his fresh masculine features. His fingers worked diligently on the wrench that unscrewed the tire from one of the racing vehicles. His brows deepened with concentration as he failed to notice Burgra's presence upon him.

"Nice shirt, kid," with a curled smile to match the streak of nicotine from his lips, Lord Burgra lowered his eyes to meet Razer's.

Razer looked up from the ground, granting his boss a smirk before turning back to his work on the tires. "My sister bought it for me". The burgundy shirt was tied around his waist carefully, exposing his bare chest which was beginning to chisel from all the hard labor he endured within the recent times.

"Nice, very nice," Burgra cleared his throat rather gruffly, signaling Razer to cease his work and bring his attention to him. Catching the hint, Razer wiped his black hands with a nearby towel and stood up to lean against the door of the vehicle.

Burgra offered him a smoke and Razer accepted. Taking the light to the fix resting on the side of his lips, he breathed in the taste as soon as it ignited.

He had changed so much within such a short amount of time. From the new bulging muscles and freshly sharp curves in his jaw, he proved to be an eyesore for the young, rich women who draped the betters' arms. His hands on experience taught him the in and outs of every vehicle and how to drive it. The tongue of the wealthy had begun to rub off on him, earning him a more educated tone of speaking. He was almost a different person completely.

The kid had it in him, burning desire, and guts. It was all Burgra needed for his next proposition.

"Say kid, notice anything about our audience lately?"

Razer's tongue watered with the nicotine clinging to his taste buds. With a deep exhale, he gave Burgra a baffled expression. "What do you mean, my Lord?"

"The numbers, they've been lowering lately. Ever since the thriving competition has slowly died off or quit with their tails between their legs, there hasn't been much excitement for the betters". Razer nodded in understanding.

"So, as you can imagine, our funds haven't been as abundant, considering that our guests are beginning to lose interest. We need something to bring them back".

"What do you suggest, my Lord? After all, Macen is a rather intimidating driver. Not many are willing to rival his power". Macen was the current champion, the fastest, one of the most conniving competitors in the races. He was the owner of the black Havoc in which Razer took pride in tending to.

Razer caught the devious glow in Lord Burgra's eyes as they bored into him with new meaning. It made him regret asking his question.

"Why, we need a new driver, of course," a shady smile stretched across Burgra's plump face. A flash of gold glimmering on the side of his teeth.

Razer blinked in disbelief. Him? Go against Macen? That was suicide. As much as he had watched the races and learned to handle the heaviness of their steering wheels, he wasn't sure he was ready to swap dirt with the most gutless racer on the track.

He also took to Macen as a role model figure. He was the one gracious enough to show him the ropes and how to drive. It was he that sat by him and instructed him just how to step on the gas and how to grip the steering wheel. Despite the blood lust that crossed Macen's face on the tracks, he was rather taken to the idea of guiding Razer into the world of Combat Racing. Whenever he'd run out of smokes, Macen was ready with a spare pack to throw his way, a cocky grin playing on his face.

"My Lord – are you sure that is a wise choice?" Razer could barely imagine himself sparking tires with the white-haired racer. He dared not to picture Macen's deep toffee eyes firing into him with deadly intentions. The thought made his fingers cut into his palms.

"Why, considering how well you've settled into these events, have you not desired to get into a vehicle of your own?"

"Y-yes, I have, my Lord. Of course". _Just not against Macen._

Burgra laughed heartily and threw an open palm onto Razer's naked shoulder. With a squeeze of both reassurance that was rather convincing by the slightly painful pressure of it, Burgra met his gaze with his icy one once again. The same gaze that he came across when he first met him that told him he had no choice.

"Good, good. Well, now's your chance, my boy. I will expect you will pick up rather quickly". He gave a sly wink to Razer and he only smiled awkwardly in return.

His fists tightened at his sides and as he watched Lord Burgra walk away, the cold blood began to quake in his bones. Just as Razer was about to settle into the mud to resume his duties, Lord Burgra called back to him.

"After you're done with that tire, please retire for the night. I want you ready and able for tomorrow, where we will begin training you. Be ready here mid-afternoon".

Razer nodded, not one to dare object to his boss. He shook his head once Burgra vanished from view, contemplating on the possible grave he had dug himself into. As much as the idea of racing made his fingers tick and his wrists pulse, racing against Macen was suicide, as well as slight betrayal. He didn't want to race up against him – a part of him discreetly hoped to race beside him one day, as a team. Now he'd be up against him just to satisfy their audience and add fat to Burgra's pockets.

Walking across the cobblestone streets of his country that night, underneath the looming indigo veil, it provided him with much reflection time, although not enough. He had finally decided that he'd tell his sister of his recent doings. He'd be home earlier than usual, possibly run into her since she'd usually arrive before him on a usual work shift. The thought comforted him, yearning to be thrown into the homey setting just to put his mind at ease.

What he'd unravel when he got there though would be something entirely different than what he expected.

The sun was waiting behind the clouds already, awaiting its turn to trade with the sinking moon. Usually when he arrived, the sun was already peeking and announcing a new day with orange highlights. The streets were deserted and only the rats were heard. Every now and then, a group of soldiers stomped in unison down the streets, glaring their intimidating stares over their surroundings before moving onto another area.

Walking onto the narrow shift of concrete in which his home resided, he was glad his front door was off the busy street. Sometimes it was a convenience to be so hidden.

Upon entering his doorway quietly, he found darkness greeting his eyes. He trudged silently, intending that if his sister was already here and asleep, that he would not wake her. However, as he trudged deeper towards their bedroom, he found just the opposite.

It seemed that she hadn't heard him come in. As he brought his ear closer, he picked up on the faint cries of what seemed to be constricted sobs. Adjusting his sight to the darkness around him, he could see her figure, slumped over in the sheets. She sat up, hands squeezing onto her forearms as she rocked back and forth.

Fear and worry gripped his heart. Had she always been this way and he never took notice? What was causing this painful turmoil in his sister? Had something else happened that may have provoked her to cry? Maybe she wasn't hiding, but awaiting his arrival to comfort her instead?

The creak on the wooden floors announcing his presence answered his last question. Her body jumped and he heard her gasp with surprise, rushing to grind her fists against her cheeks to wipe the last remaining tears. Razer rushed forward, not minding to his dirty attire and sticky bare body.

"Rosetta, what's wrong?" He reached out to grab her arms but she jumped again. Razer pulled his hands back, half in fear and half in shock. He was stunned at her reaction to him suddenly, as if his touch was an omen to her skin.

Rosetta looked away in shame, bringing a loose hair to re-curl itself behind her ear. They sat in silence for a moment before Razer reached out again in attempt to comfort her.

This time, she let him, although her squeezing body showed her hesitation. His hand settled on her shoulder as he tried to make out her expression in the dark. She kept her face hidden from him. This was not like her. This was not the big sister he knew. Always cheery, always optimistic and so loving to the touch. It frightened him.

Before he could question her again, her face spun to him in anger. Her face wrenching in newfound rage and his hand was pushed off by hers. "What are you doing home so early?"

Razer was taken back. Her tone was so demanding. So full of anger and cold. It made him wonder if he had done something wrong in seeing her like this. Had he done her wrong by reaching out to her? Had he done wrong by coming home earlier than usual?

"I-" he cleared his throat, "My job-".

"Your job? You have a job?"

"My job, yes, my boss let me take leave earlier for the night," he spared her the small detail of the 'promotion' that Burgra had offered. He almost wanted to smile at her surprise. What had she thought he was doing during all those nights he wasn't here? Had she not pondered his newly athletic shape or the soot on his clothing? Had she not noticed the change in his tongue or the fact that he returned home just as tired as she, maybe more so?

In an instant, something struck Razer, knowing she was trying to steer away from her own business so take off the heated attention of his discovery. "Wait- why are you crying?"

"I- don't know what you're talking about, Razer. I am fine now; what's this job of yours?"

Razer wouldn't stand for it. He would win this one. Taking hold of her arms more firmly, he shook her, "Why were you crying?". This time his tone was just as angry and demanding as hers before. His voice was now deep and enriched with his accent. She had never took notice of it until that very moment.

Rosetta looked away, bringing her pleading palms to push his chest away. Upon coming in contact with the sweat and dirt on his chest, she turned to rub the moisture in her fingers. She looked up to meet her brother's eyes in the darkness. Who was this man? What had he become lately that she failed to become aware of? His breath – smelled of nicotine. His hands and body, full of dirt and grease. Her gaze trembled as he caught it in his.

In seconds, her will was broken and tears welled up in her lashes. "Razer I- I can't tell you. I just can't!"

"Rosetta, you need to. I _need_ to know," Razer forced his eyes on hers, trying to persuade her to reveal her secrets.

His voice softened into a whisper, his anger subsiding with the moment. Rosetta continued to sob and it broke his heart. Leaning into his chest, Razer welcomed her into embrace. As dirty as he was, as disgusting as he must've felt to her, she didn't seem to mind. He stroked her hair compassionately as her tears trickled down his chest.

As time wore on, a new feeling numbed him. He was stunned at the realization of what the electricity running through his body meant. Here was his sister, who had loved and raised him, sobbing in his arms helplessly and meanwhile, his woman- deprived body was reacting in a way that was inappropriate.

His fingers tightened on her back as if to prevent any further unwanted movements. The itch to hold her closer and bring his lips to her was scolded in his mind. What was he thinking? Was he an animal? A man who couldn't control his ripe sexual urges?

With the nature of the way he grew up, he hadn't had the time to lay eyes on a woman and 'crush' on her, nor satisfy any lusty intents. The only woman he had ever admired and thought beautiful was the one in his arms. Was it wrong to think in such a way? Had his love for her been misguided all along?

Feeling ashamed of himself, Razer bit down on his cheek. The salty taste of his own blood and the pain helped to rid the thoughts in his mind. Thankfully, his sister spoke before he could dwell any longer on the sin tugging at him.

"Razer?"

"Hmm?" He tried to speak as little as possible.

To make matters worse, Rosetta nuzzled her damp cheeks into his chest more. He felt a lump in his throat swell as he swallowed. She could feel his voice rumble when he responded and his husky whisper eased her cries. The combination of his arms and the hard crying only made her tired.

"I'll tell you tomorrow okay? I promise you. Then we can both discuss all the things that haven't been touched upon. I have much to tell you. Much that I fear you will hate me for," her nails gingerly drew on his chest and his heartbeat fastened.

"Rosetta, I can never hate you. You're my sister and I will always be the one to watch over you as you have done for me," he was trying to convince himself as well as Rosetta. The word 'sister' emphasized and repeated in his mind.

She nodded before her body became heavy against his. In moments, he realized she had fallen asleep. He could not move in fear that he'd only wake her up. Looking down at her black hair against his chest, the pale light pooling from the window onto her shoulders, he couldn't help but not want to wake her.

Sighing in defeat, he cautiously leaned back to lay against the futon. Her head comfortably fitted beneath his arm, resting her cheek on the side of his chest. He'd go to hell for this, he thought.

She was at peace now, and although she was no longer troubled, he was still in disarray. He still hadn't told her about the job he was threatened into and the new promotion that may very well take his life if not carried out successfully. Mental knives stabbed at him for the strange male urges washing over his body. Also the thought of why she was crying dragged on in him.

For some reason, he had a feeling that she wouldn't tell all as she said she would. Because of this, he had silently agreed with himself that he'd follow her the next night if necessary – follow her into a world where he was blocked off from with vague detail. Perhaps then – he'd finally discover who his sister was and always has been. Maybe then – they would both be bathed into the light where they'd never have to hide anything from one another again.

Unfortunately he hadn't known that was too much to hope for…

**---------------------------------------**

**Okay! I know what you guys are thinking. Renji! W-what are you thinking? What twisted things have come to mind in the time you've taken to update? Don't worry, I promise I do not write things without reason. ::evil grin:: **

**Sorry for the Rayn absence. She will reappear in the next chap.**

**Note to my beta-reader: Your sleepy beta was way better than my sleepy writing. I was writing things like kitchen round table instead of round kitchen table. Shame on me. Thanks for making my chap English since it was tired gibberish and blahs when it got to you Lol. **


	9. Chapter 9 : A Racer's Past Part II

Another lengthy chapter and very sleepily done. 

**-------------------------------------------------**

Chapter 9 

A breathy sigh tickling against his earlobe caused warning signals to tremor from his toes to the space between his ears. Cool sheets crumbled in his fingertips as his body shuddered, a new heaviness pressing into his side. As his heart threatened to rip through his chest, he listened intently to the familiar breathing tempting the shell of his ear. He could almost feel it trailing down the crook of his neck.

He didn't dare open his eyes - that is until a moist, soft pressure was felt against the close of his parted lips. For a moment, it didn't quite register in his head until his eyes shot open.

_A kiss? A dream?_

Razer blinked his eyes in disbelief. Morning glow spread its luminosity pouring through their single window. His fingers fell onto the warm, blank imprint in where his sister, Rosetta, was supposed to have been sleeping. Patting the empty space in question, it took another moment for him to curve his brows and wonder why she wasn't there. Usually during the day, they'd gather groceries and share vague details about their buried lives.

With a drawn out groan, Razer sat up from the floor. He strung his fingers through his messy hair, still spotted with dried oil that he never had the chance to wash off. His lip curled at the obvious unpleasant odor rubbing off from his dirt-smitten body. He mused at the thought that that was the reason she had awaken before him.

His eyes squeezed with the bright light blanketing over their home. It was most likely mid-afternoon. He should be at work soon. Slowly and clumsily he staggered his way to their 'kitchen'. Rubbing his knuckles in his eye, he looked around warily.

The vacant seats tucked in the round table and the untouched space of their small home made him worry even more. After the night before, she promised she'd tell him everything. Would she ever go against that? No - she'd never lie to him.

Razer pushed away the thought of his sister betraying his trust. He didn't want to think that way. Not yet. Maybe she had left a note. Maybe she had left a meal. Maybe she had left _something_ of her pre-existent presence. She would return soon from wherever she went – wouldn't she?

Scavenging through the small icebox where they had kept their food and the wooden surface of their table, there was no sign of a note or a meal. Shaking his head, Razer barged into the bathroom and - nothing. His tall structure stood standing there in the doorway, hands clenching the doorframe in shock, wood splintering his palms.

_No. She couldn't have- she wouldn't have!_

Paralyzed and in denial, he continued to bore his eyes through the rusty porcelain of their lavatory. His chest burned and tore; his eyes itched with tears he trapped within his lids. Then in an instant, it was replaced by anger.

_How could she? She promised! Why is she running from me!_

His pale skin boiled into a beet red. His thick fingers roughly shoved aside the stained towels blocking the tub. His soiled slacks hit the floor and he kicked them aside angrily. Chipped at the edges, his bare legs scraped against sharp dents of the tub but he didn't care. Stung by the wintry coolness of the porcelain, he reached out to turn on the hot water.

Scalding hot water reddened his skin and ran down his face. The water trickling down his tight pectoral muscles and legs swirled in the drain, a blend of brown and black. Brown and black – felt just like his day already.

The water helped him feel numb. The air grew stuffy and hard to breath. The moisture was sucked through his nostrils as he tried to pay no heed to the morning masculine stiffness greeting him between his thighs. That was all he needed at a time like this.

Fresh memories of her swollen, reddened eyes flashed through his mind. The pain she looked like she was enduring all alone, hurt him. As he held her protectively in his embrace last night, he vowed to make all those tears evaporate as soon as she told him the cause of it all. However, that time would never come since she had taken it upon herself to leave him here dumfounded.

Dumbfounded and heartbroken.

Betrayed and abandoned.

He felt like a chunk of what he believed to be his sweet, innocent sister was gone. He had once believed she would never lie to him. Now a part of him wondered if she only told him what she thought was best.

Fingers slipped down the tiles next to him. His plans to follow her through the night would have to be cancelled until her return. His green eyes slowly losing gleam, he rested his head on the tiles.

He couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of what would be a chain of betrayals.

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"You look like shit".

Razer only answered with a brute grunt towards his boss. Burgra smirked in amusement at Razer's sudden change in attitude. From 'Lording' and 'pleases', now lowered to the occasional nod of his head or grunts. He was obviously in no mood for sweet conversation.

Burgra watched the way Razer clenched the leather of the steering wheel maliciously, the way he trudged about like a dark cloud. The intermittent loud clunk and crash of the tools alarmed all those around him of his rage - bordering temper.

Never had he seen Razer this way, but he couldn't help being pleased with this new side to him. This was exactly what he needed to start off his racing. Pure heartbroken, boiling, passionate anger. This would be the key to the deadly road awaiting him.

Burgra's devious smirk was hidden from view as Razer busied himself with the oil spurting from one of the engines. His hands no longer paid tender attention to the bolts and knots under the hood. The whines and screeches protested his touch as Razer closed the leak.

"Be ready to race, boy. It's coming up in five. Spectators await to see your potential".

Razer didn't answer. Burgra didn't bother pushing the issue. He knew he was heard. With a puff of his cigar, Burgra retreated to the other end of the garage.

This was only a practice race, but was just as real as any official one. To race in this sport, you had to drive with racers that had true killer intent. Every moment on the track, the other racers _would_ attempt to kill him in order to win, and it would be either by his fear or his arrogance that he would get through it.

In an instant, another presence loomed over Razer and he didn't have to turn to see who it was. By the smell of nicotine and the heavy footing across the dirt, it could be no other. Macen.

The track's best racer, current champion and former role model, now turned enemies. Now they both knew that this was business, no friendly endeavors would be exchanged on the track. Razer knew that if Macen needed to, he would kill him.

A fresh, unopened pack of cigarettes was thrown beside him. Razer eyed it for a second before disregarding it and returning to the engine work. The white-haired driver couldn't help but laugh.

"What's the matter? Don't feel the need to share cigs anymore?"

"The charity isn't necessary," Razer replied coldly, to Macen's surprise. This was the boy who had come here not too long ago, wide eyed, drooling at the tracks? Now he was sweating over engines and popping nicotine like candy. Not too long ago, he was eager to learn how to handle the wheel. Now he was going to handle it against him.

"Kids grow fast, don't they?" Macen continued to rake at Razer's patience. His arms crossed over his chest, tight blue T-shirt clinging to his shape beneath his dusted brown racing jacket. He watched Razer contain the urge to pucker his lips in attempt to spit at him.

Lighting a cigarette, Macen took a crack at him again. "Having personal problems? Although I may have to ram you off the road, you're still free to seek my assistance during garage duty - that is, if you're alive and shit".

Razer scoffed, turning to give him a sly, slick grin that would give even Macen a run for his money. "Bullshit is not very appetizing, so I'd appreciate it if you did not feed me it".

An astonished 'o' formed in Macen's lips. With an impressed whistle, he complimented, "Sharp tongue. It's nice to see you have that in you. You'll be needing _something_ sharp for the tracks. Till we swap sparks…" Macen walked away with a wave.

Razer steamed over the engine. Thoughts of what his sister had resorted to in order to keep him from her secrets drove him mad. Every passing second only infuriated him more. To think he had been so concerned for her and his entire life he had only thought of returning her care. Now how would he return this?

Wiping the sweat resting on his forehead, he suddenly couldn't help but feel that someone was watching him. It wasn't a creepy feeling of any sort, he just felt someone was there, eyeing his every move. At times, he'd innocently snap his eyes around to look for any suspicious faces, but there were none.

Rolling his shoulders with a crack, loosening his joints, he shook off the feeling. He was worrying too much. His mind was toying with him just like it had been all day. He couldn't let anything distract him, not now.

It was time to race.

The next sixty seconds would be the longest sixty seconds of his life. It took thirty seconds to hop into the vehicle and pull up to the track. It was a Havoc similar to Macen's, just a more traditional model. Fifteen seconds to recheck all the mirrors and make sure all the levers and machinery was properly in place. Ten seconds to ponder if he was about to count down the last few seconds of his very short, depressing life. Five seconds as each light counted down to green.

Three – two – one – and he was off. He hadn't even bothered to look over at the other driver's expressions. He knew it would only make him regret this decision even more.

His foot steadily held the gas, knowing that too much power would only make him lose control over the sharp turns. The first turn came, lightly inching the brakes he swerved the vehicle around gracefully, dirt spattering across his cheeks. It felt good. However, before he could feel any more accomplishment in handling the car so well, he heard it. The first explosion.

Burgra kept his eyes on Razer's vehicle, easily stretching around sharp curves and dodging fiery explosions alit across his windshield. The land mines and homing missiles acted blind to the vehicle and Razer drove as if his mother's womb was the mud in the track. By the growing grin across his face, Burgra knew he was getting it. The power, the blood lust, it was making him feel majestic. He really was a natural, but would he be good enough?

Burgra arched a brow as he saw Razer's vehicle edging behind Macen's. Now _this_ would be interesting. For the practice race, Burgra only requested two laps around the track and only three drivers took part, including Macen. This was just a test and it seemed that he had underestimated Razer too much, made it too easy. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

A frown pulled on his plump cheeks. Macen was going easy on him too. During any other race, the track would've already been soiled with burning steel and half dead bodies with Macen's name on it. Everyone – was still alive. Burgra's stubby fingers choked his cigar until it broke in half.

This – this was not entertainment. This was not danger. If it wasn't life threatening, it wasn't Combat Racing.

As Macen's vehicle pulled past the finish line, Razer finishing not too far behind, Burgra made his way towards the two. The look of dissatisfaction was evident. He glared icily at Macen who could tell by the look that he'd receive one hell of a 'talk' later on. This inspired him to pull out a cigarette.

Standing in front of Razer, Burgra tapped his foot impatiently. Razer didn't bother to look up. He was too suffocated in his dark cloud to care.

"Not good. Horrible. That race was the most tedious race I have ever endured. Plucking the few hairs from my scalp would have proved more enjoyable". Burgra was surprised at the small laugh that escaped Razer's lips. Was he – being disrespectful?

"Might I ask why that was so?" Razer took a long drag from the fix in his mouth, paying little to no attention at all to his boss. Without warning, Burgra's fisted Razer's collar, yanking his neck to look him in the eyes. The cigarette fell into the mud and Razer's glazed eyes met Burgra's.

"No death!"

Razer said nothing. There was a moment of silence as Burgra glared into Razer's eyes, searching for something apparently only he could see. His grey eyes squinted as it darted all over Razer's passive expression.

"Hmm…not quite there yet. Almost, but not quite," Burgra threw Razer back into the seat and walked away. Razer didn't attempt to figure out the strange meaning to Burgra's words.

He wasn't angry enough. He wasn't heartbroken enough. He wasn't lonely enough. With time and a little tuning though, he'd be there. It took more than skill to drive during these races; it took steaming, hot, emotion dusting away in empty ribcages. Fugitives and criminals, homeless and drowning in poverty, tormented minds made up the races.

Razer's mind wasn't tormented enough, Burgra thought to himself. A pair of eyes hidden in the bleachers caught Burgra's attention. He arched a brow at the strange shadow as he slyly made his way in that direction, careful not to scare the bystander away from its hiding place.

Concealed in the shadows was a young woman, her hazel eyes lustrous with admiration. Golden ringlets tied loosely in a cream bow, bounced off her sun kissed bare shoulders, her cheeks sprinkled in soft pink. A tight cream bodice, embroidered in lace, clung to her torso. Loose fabric spilled out over her legs, spattered in small, floral prints.

She failed to notice Lord Burgra's presence looming over her. His tongue slithered over his lips in deviant thought, as he looked her over. Her eyes were wide, her fingers clinging to the metal of the bleachers as she admired the object of her attention. He followed her love stricken gaze to his now bi-polar apprentice – Razer.

His thick finger tapped his chin as he had concluded his freshly formed metal plan. Lighting a cigar to shove between his pudgy lips, he decided to take the first step.

"Lady Marcela, fancy finding you here in such a criminal - ridden place such as this".

She backed away from the shadows with a startled gasp, her fingers clasping over her fluttering heart. Burgra scoffed a small laugh beneath his breath.

"L-Lord Burgra! Oh my, my deepest apologies".

Burgra shook his head at the wealthy maiden before him. "Your father would not be very pleased to find that your eyes are set on such unworthy meat, nor would he be pleased to know this is the place in which you escape his prying eyes". Burgra lifted his cigar towards Razer's direction, whom at the moment was smoking his fix.

Crimson darkened her cheeks; her small lips open and lost for words. Burgra smiled. He began to circle her. "You know, you're father is one our most valuable, if not, highest bidders here at the tracks. Without his business, we can expect to lose a large portion of our funds. We wouldn't want him to find a reason to cut his ties with us because that wouldn't be good for you, either".

Her fingers laced together as she pleaded, "Oh, please, Lord Burgra. Don't tell my father that I'm here- that I've been-".

"Worry not, my dearest. You're more than welcome here anytime you like, I'd just watch your pretty little sleeves, if you know what I'm implying. As for your infatuation with my newest driver – he's been a little distracted lately. I'm sure he wouldn't mind some new company".

"Oh no, I mean, I couldn't. Would he-" her eyes lit up like glimmering jewels at the thought of sharing a conversation with Razer. Burgra had no idea what a woman like her could see in such a dirty peasant. It didn't really matter though; He just needed her to inspire Razer a little.

"Well you didn't hear it from me. Do as you please with the words I bestow onto you, just make sure you don't get caught". Burgra walked away from her, twirling his cigar between his fingers, leaving a very wealthy, love smitten woman walking on air, preparing to approach her new love the next day.

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_Razer, my dear brother,_

_I am deeply sorry for all the pain and sadness I must've caused you during the last few hours. I know you must be worried, but you have to understand, there are some things that I cannot face you with just yet. I will return home in time. Don't worry. I am safe._

_Everything I do, I only do for you. Remember that and keep it close to you._

_Your sister, Rosetta_

Oily fingerprints marked the edges of the small, frail note in between his fingers. In the darkness of the early dawn, he rubbed its edges, almost testing its authenticity. It had been a long day, from all the races and Burgra barking how there wasn't enough death. Macen continued to flick at his patience and he still couldn't help but feel like someone was watching him the entire time. The shirt his sister had given him had caught fire in one of the explosions that he had only managed to escape by a hair. The shreds burning on the ground was like bad omen foreshadowing the night to come.

On any usual night, arriving home would be the peace that would lull his to sleep. Now it was a burden. The only things to quench his yearn for his sister was the note in his hands, her sweet smell lingering far off, just like she was. Far and somewhere he did not know of. It bothered him.

He wanted to protect her. He wanted to support her. He wanted to dry her tears and erase her troubles, but now, all he was, was the stranger that came to their home and received her notes that she must've written in a hurry just to avoid crossing his path.

It was quiet. Only the strays in the alleyways could hear Razer's tearing heart and screaming mind.

The note crumbled in his fingers. He had thought of writing back, but what was the point? When would she receive it? When would he face his sister again? The anger and betrayal only seemed to grow within him.

Why didn't she let him be there when she needed him the most? Hadn't she done the same for him?

The note still wrinkled in his tightened palm, Razer made his way to their 'bedroom'. Without another thought, his body dragged onto the futon on the floor and fell into deep sleep, away from his mind and away from his troubles. The only bedtime wish he held close to his heart, was that she come home soon and yet, he couldn't help but think that would be another promise she would break to him.

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Seven days of showing up to the tracks early. Seven days of strenuous races and heavy machinery work. Seven days of returning home without so much of another note or warm presence to welcome home. Seven days, and Rosetta hadn't come back.

The only thing that brought sunshine to his dampened spirits was the fact that day-by-day his racing skills were improving. Possibly through the crappy quality of how he was feeling. The wind in his face chilled his mind and the loud explosions and screams deafened the chants in his head. The faster he went and the more he tried to kill, the less he had to think about anything else.

Another occurrence that helped to lighten the routine of his now torturous life was a new devotee who was following him around like a lost puppy. Although she was no doubt beautiful and rich, she was the most exasperating woman he had ever shared space with and if women were all like this, it was no wonder he had never paid them attention before.

Others had already warned him of her father, who'd be quick to wipe his existence off the planet, had his daughter's infatuation with him ever been discovered. Yet no matter how he tried to swat her away to avoid such problems in the future, she only clung to him more. He couldn't help but feel strange pity for the poor girl. She seemed lonely, just like he was.

Still – lonely or not, there were some things he could not tolerate, like the pink flowers she had tied to his Havoc two days ago, or the flowery perfume she had spritzed all over his seats. Worse than it all was the nickname she had for him - it made his ears bleed, made him feel like a sissy school boy in suspenders. Nothing – nothing was worse than that.

"Oh Razie!" Razer groaned audibly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Singing such a ridiculous name all across the garage shamelessly was Lady Marcela, the daughter of one of the highest, and most dangerous bidders at the tracks. Sliding her fingers along the side of his door, there she was, eyes glittering and lips pouting.

"Are you off to race again, Razie dearest?"

"Yes, Lady Marcela-"

"Oh Razie, I told you to ignore such formalities with me. I'm no stranger," she encouraged with roguish wink.

Razer rolled his eyes to the side, "Marcela, yes, if you must know, I'm off to race again. That is what I do. Now if you would please-" Razer reached out to unclamp her fingers from his door and she only cooed in response.

"Isn't there anything else, or _anyone_ else, that can occupy your time?"

The blond tilted her head with a frown, "Well, usually I attend the races with daddy, being the beautiful lady on his arm, but it seems lately he's found another pretty pet to take his arm. Someone he'd prefer more than me".

Razer couldn't offer her any words. He only nodded and hit the gas. Slowly retreating with a sigh, he couldn't let her distract him. There were no more practice races. This was the real thing. Spectators, including her father, would be pouring into the tracks any minute, awaiting fresh meat and fresh blood.

From what he heard, the bets were against him. Maybe he had only beaten Macen nearly half the time, but he still wasn't capable of taking his place. Burgra always murmured about something missing in Razer or something he lacked, if only he could place his finger on what that something was, and then maybe he could be successful.

Moments later, people began arriving at the tracks, flashing their bills in their grubby fingers with greedy grins. Women decorated their arms just to feign fascination with the races and provide the men entertainment. He silently wondered which one was Marcela's father so he knew who to keep an eye out for. Marcela was nowhere to be seen.

After a few minutes, the bleachers were full and the soil awaited their burning tires. Razer pulled up his Havoc to the starting line along with the other drivers, Macen pulling up beside him. They hadn't shared much conversation since their last bitter meeting; Macen hadn't bothered offering him any more cigarettes.

The first round of races was starting. Razer's knuckles cracked on the wheel, his fingers brushed his hair back and with the oil on his hands, it made his hair slick back easier with a shine. He no longer trembled in fear of what was ahead; instead his whole body shook with anticipation to begin.

His brows creased in concentration as they focused on the lights ahead of him. Five seconds in counting. The light turned green and they were off.

The grinding of droning metal against his wheel was a welcoming sound. Jerking his wheel to the left, he was able to use the power of his vehicle to run off the opposing car. Macen was not far off, shooting missiles carelessly and once again taking Razer for granted. Razer shook his head; the roar of the crowd encouraged him, blending in with gushing wind.

A smile crossed over his lips as he flicked the switch to activate his Yellow Eco weapons. As his homing missiles whistled through the air, dancing alongside the other weapons flailing at and around him, it was almost like a musical symphony. It was a pleasing site, watching them spin, watching sparks streak by and hot flames lining across the tracks.

The crowd automatically took to the new face with interest. Questions and gossip spread through them as they observed him. He was good, and by the third lap, still in one piece.

Marcela sat next to her father, wearing a dull expression. Her gloved hands crossed over her chest, puffing out from her tight bodice. The only thing that kept her entertained was the fact that her Razie was racing. Not being permitted to cheer for him displeased her. The fact that her father didn't even notice her existence because of the other woman he brought with him displeased her even more. Especially because she knew where the woman had originally worked and still worked during off hours away from her father, she couldn't understand how father could let such trash accompany him to the races. The thought that her father had his ways with the woman disgusted her in more ways than one.

Her father was a plump man, similar to Lord Burgra. His dirty blond hair slicked back, curling at his nape. Long sideburns led down to a thick row of goatee across his chin. Today he was wearing a Navy blue striped suit, purposely trying to match with his pet. She had to admit, the woman was beautiful, but she couldn't help but feel neglected because of her. Why couldn't her father save his 'needs' for another time?

The woman was made up and decorated just as she was. Wearing Navy blue gloves and a dress similar to Marcela's, her sharp eyes followed the drivers on the tracks, always watching the two farthest ahead, Macen and Razer. Every now and then she'd turn to tilt her head and give her father a grin or silly laugh just to satisfy him until her eyes returned to the races.

"Oh, daddy, why did you have to bring her today?" Marcela whined, her lips pursing like a child.

The woman seemed unfazed by Marcela's behavior and her father laughed heartily. "Don't you see, Marcela, her interest in the races are so deep, and she doesn't even heed your words. Wonderful company, she is".

"Wonderful company, yes, I bet". Marcela slipped under her breath and with that, the woman turned to her. At first she thought she had won and she was going to say something inappropriate to her, something that would anger her father and cause him to get rid of her, but instead she smiled sickly and turned away.

Marcela's eyes widened at the sight of Razer passing through for the final lap. Only two other drivers lingered behind him and Macen, proving to be no competition for the two. Huffing vengefully, she could no longer take her father's behavior. Perhaps she needed to encourage him to bring his attention back to her.

Without another thought, Marcela took all her concern for getting caught and the thought of her father discovering her new love and discarded it. Waving her fingers and singing sweetly, she called over to her prized racer.

"Go, get him Razie!" Not realizing that she had dug into something much deeper than originally planned, she stood up and threw her handkerchief. Razer and Macen turned briefly to acknowledge her call, and Razer's face seemed to freeze. He was driving too fast to linger and Marcela didn't know what to make of the reaction until she saw her father's company wearing the same expression. Onyx hair fell over her wide green eyes, her glossy lips hanging loosely in shock.

Her father's face flushed red with anger at his daughter's show. Pulling her down by the wrist, he sat her down beside him. Marcela would've usually been satisfied that she had finally caught her father's attention, but for some reason, she couldn't help but wonder the connection between his father's company and Razer.

The woman coughed daintily, feigning a loss of breath. Patting her back gently, her father whispered into her hair, "Are you alright? Would you like to retreat to the ladies room?"

"Why, yes, I would like that very much. I will return shortly. Forgive me". She nodded and left the seats. The race was over and Macen had won by a hair. It was a close race.

Marcela was ready to follow the woman until she felt her father take hold of her arm. She plopped back down with a gasp. "Now explain to me dearest, who is this _Razie_ that you've set your eyes on?"

Marcela swallowed the large lump in her throat. She was in trouble…and so was Razer.

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Razer scrambled away from his vehicle as soon as they crossed the finish line. He didn't soak in the crowd's responses or step out dramatically to give them a full view of the new driver's face. All he could think about was that particular face in the crowd. He hadn't realized it at first, but upon Marcela's call and setting eyes on the woman, he knew it was she. It could be no other.

Macen watched Razer disappear with a shrug. Managing to escape the crowds and a fuming Burgra, he found a desolated area in the entrance to the tracks. Trotting to the same area in a hurry was the woman in question.

Razer felt his face heat up and his eyes burn. All the anger he had buried within him seemed to explode inside. "Rosetta! What in the hell is going on!"

His sister ran up to him, attempting to cover his mouth from screaming anymore. "Hush, you'll attract attention to us".

He smacked her hand away, "I could care less. Where have you been? And why are you here, dressed like this? Wha- what is the meaning of this?"

His skin was blood red, his face hot, and his fists balled up violently. He paced around her as if he didn't know what to do with his body and how to move it. Rosetta whisked her head around; hoping the excitement of the crowd was successful in drowning out Razer's tantrum.

Rosetta once again reached out in attempt to control her brother but he pulled away yet again. "Do you have any idea what I've been through for the past few days?"

Those words seemed to silence the moment. Rosetta froze, now dumbfounded with guilt. Her lips threatened to quiver and she was lost for words. She didn't know what to say, how to account for the wrong she had done her brother. The way he cupped her elbows and pulled her to him, it was as if she felt his broken heart beneath his thumping chest. It was awkward and frightening.

Had it been that long that she could not fathom the last time she had been this close to him? All these years she had held him through all his head colds, his chicken pox, his broken limbs and his sad, deprived childhood in which she repeated to him how life would get better someday. His body and scent that were once as familiar as her own was now a stranger's. She saw a different man out on the tracks, a different face glaring at her from the race. The man now holding her had grown and changed without her even knowing.

The only thing that branded him as the Razer she had grown up with and raised was the desperate green eyes that were now sinking into her own, asking for wisdom as they always did from his older sister. It was a shame – a shame that he didn't know so much.

Turning away from him, her palms pressed his chest, smeared with oil and other substances she'd rather not identify. With a dragged gasp, she pleaded, "Razer- I can't! When I get home tonight- there's so much to tell you".

He retrieved her elbows again, shaking her to look back to him. "No, you already said you'd tell me and then you left! You left me for days without so much as an explanation or clue! You need to tell me right now! Why are you here at the tracks? Why are you accompanying Lady Marcela's father?"

Her eyes suddenly flared with an emotion he had never seen in her. "_Lady_ Marcela? How do you know her? And why was she calling you from the tracks? Why are _you_ at the tracks?"

Razer growled in frustration. That was just like her, to answer your questions with some of her own or change the subject. He was reaching his breaking point. He could feel his grip on her arms tightening but it didn't seem to intimidate her. She continued to meet his eyes with defiance, the same defiance she'd fire at the soldiers that would come to their home in search for him.

At the moment he didn't care for the tracks. He didn't care for the races. Hell, he didn't care for his own life. He just wanted – no needed answers. He needed his sister back.

In a low, deep tone, coated with an anger that was new to her, he leaned in and warned her. "Rosetta. That's enough". His thumbs stabbing into the inside of her elbows, a painful pang shot up to her shoulders. She squeaked under her breath, trying not to sever the defiant look she was wearing.

With a warning strength of her own, her nails began to pinch at the skin on his chest. He too, refused to flinch in her victory.

When they were children, they had rarely fought like most siblings had. They were more like a pair of best friends that constantly agreed with one another and were in synch with every move and sound before it was even done. However, the few times they did fight, it all ended in nothing but regret and painful bruises.

They were both stubborn and they'd both rather scathe each other's skin off before raising a white flag. Usually Rosetta would win, being that she was the bigger and cleverer one. But now Razer was a man, bigger than she and stronger than she ever had been. There was no guarantee that if they had it out, she would win. Besides, it had been years since such a thing happened and she couldn't find it in her heart to kick him around, nor could she imagine him doing such a thing to her at this age and time.

Her shadowed eyes looked up at him, purple beginning to bubble and tear at her lashes. Razer wasn't sure if it was from his strong grip or everything in general, but the look on her face made him soften his hold on her. He felt like a prick. He didn't know why and although he felt he had reason to react so harshly, he still felt like he was at fault for everything.

Just as she was about to say something else, another voice called out and interrupted them. "My dearest, is there something that needs my handling?"

Razer and Rosetta turned to see Marcela's father towering over them in the entrance and a very meek, blond hiding behind him. His large hand was possessively clamping over her wrist as he reached out to offer another to Razer's sister.

They hadn't realized how their positioning, along with the expressions on their faces made their commotion look like a lover's quarrel. The suspicion showed in Marcela's father's eyes.

"Is this young man an acquaintance of yours?" His blond brow screwed up over Razer. Razer stood dominantly, feet planted firmly in the mud and smeared chest lifting heavily. He turned to Rosetta, and looked back to him, a look of possession also crossing over his features.

The idea of this man, this wealthy trash having his hands anywhere near his sister drove him mad. Just seeing the way his fingers curled so insensitively around his own daughter's wrist, he decided that this man was not to his approval whether he was a boss of his sisters – or something that she wasn't telling him. He prayed to the Gods that the worse of his suspicions would not be confirmed later.

Just as he was about to pull Rosetta to him and say something heroic like 'My sister and I will be going home, never to cross your filthy path again', instead she pulled away. Razer's eyes widened with shock, he looked to see that his sister's familiar expression had turned dull and cold, her chin tipped up with pride. Her fingers wiped against the hem of her dress, as if to cleanse the warmth of his touch away.

Razer felt his own pride plummet to the lowest it had ever been. Even Marcela seemed to wince at Rosetta's apparent rejection to him.

Clearing her throat, she said clearly, "I apologize, my Lord. Please don't waste your precious time due to such trivial matters. I've never seen this man in my life".

"What!" The protest escaped his lips before his mind had a chance to process it. What the hell was she doing?

Brushing him away like a tin can found in an alleyway, she made her way to wrap her arm around her 'Lord'. Smiling with conceit, she patted his broad shoulder in reassurance. "You know how it is, the winning racers are always looking for a prize". Ending it with a girlish laugh, Marcela's father seemed to forget Razer's presence and took appreciation to Rosetta's humor.

"Yes, I know all too well," he agreed with a glare aimed straight at Marcela, still cowering behind him. "Let us go. I'm famished".

As they made there way past Razer, Rosetta didn't even breathe in his direction. She hadn't even chanced a look back. Marcela's father shot him one last murderous grin before returning his attention to his sister. Razer just stood there, fingers hanging loosely at his sides. His jaw hung just as slack.

Before their figures had completely vanished, Marcela was the only one compassionate enough to look back and briefly meet his eyes. By the look on her face, he knew that she truly regretted provoking her father and being the cause for all this. Mouthing a silent apology, she trailed behind her father helplessly.

A siren sounded, signaling the next round of races would begin shortly. Razer could do nothing for now. He was too stunned to react even if he wanted to. He felt like she had just smacked him in public but this – this had to be worse.

When he got to his Havoc, he unleashed a sudden flurry of punches into the front bumper. Biting his tongue to hold back his screams of rage, his knuckles scraped rapidly against steel. Cutting and bruising his hands, metal dented and warm blood wet his fingers. He didn't feel the pain. Pain was beginning to feel like a foreign object.

In the distance, Lord Burga watched his apprentice with a nod of approval.

"He's ready…"

After that incident, Razer had won the next race against Macen, and every one afterwards for the night.

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As if Razer's anger played a major factor in the weather, the sun stalled in coming up daybreak, clouds suffocated the murky skies with darkness. Rain pitter-pattered on his body as he walked home.

His teeth clenched every step and his fingers clung to the insides of his pockets.

Upon entering his home, the open curtains and the fresh smell of food announced his sister's presence. Finally after so many days she had returned, and for what? He didn't even bother to close the door or take off his soaking wet boots as he followed her aura. Finally making his way to the bedroom, he found her.

Giving a startled gasp, she got up, a pile of clean clothing in her arms. Her hair was damp from the shower and all the makeup washed from her face. He felt like it had been ages since he had seen his sister's face. It was no longer angelic, no longer delicate, but now aged and marked with tired bags beneath her once lively eyes.

For a moment they just stared at one another, lost for words. Razer continued to fumble his pockets, dripping from outside, and Rosetta looked shamefully at the pile of clothing in her arms. She couldn't bear to look into the gaze that she knew was burning into her.

Rosetta opened her mouth to speak. She knew there was so much to say and she couldn't pinpoint where to begin.

"Razer I- I'm sorry- I know there's so much you need to know. It's just that I don't even know where to begin".

The more she spoke, the more his fingers itched. Every word from her lips sounded like somber gibberish that he could care less for. At this point, there were no words to make up for all the mistakes that she had done. There was no apology that would make everything better.

Earlier in the week he had longed to hold her, earlier in the night, he had found a new longing. A longing that had hit him when she swatted him away like a buzzing fly, a longing that urged to be released when he attacked the front of his racing vehicle.

"I guess I should start with my job. Well I- it started when-"

She stuttered and sputtered like an invalid incapable of language. She sounded ridiculous to his ears. Finally, not being able to stand her helpless looking expression as she tongue tied for an explanation to give him, he gave into his longing.

In a swift instant, faster than her eyes could catch, his large hand ripped from the inside of his pocket and threw against her cheek. A loud, wet clap sounded in the hollow room and the pile of clothes in her hands fell onto the floor. His fingers still open and stinging from her face, held itself in the air for a moment before lowering back into the comfort of his pocket. Expressionless, and with cold eyes he regarded her just as she had done to him earlier in the day, as if she were nothing.

Trembling fingers held her cheek, her lips motionless and eyes bubbling once again with tears. This time Razer showed no remorse as he had done before. Her eyes traveled to his face and from his face to his hand in his pocket, in which she could still feel his fingers on her pounding face.

"Since when did my sister become so weak? You can't even talk straight".

With a wheeze and a new burst of dignity, she backfired, "When did you become so strong to the point that you could raise your hand to my face?"

"Since you denied me as your brother," Razer deadpanned. He didn't move an inch as he kept his firm gaze locked onto her.

Rosetta looked away, whispering beneath her breath, "I did it for you. I did it for us".

Razer said nothing and she continued. "That job that I got from that man on the streets. It was a dancing job – exotic dancing". She could almost feel the atmosphere grow tense at her first confession but she knew there was no going back. This was what he wanted and he deserved the truth, no matter how much it would pain him in the end.

"Why?" he asked, in the most honest, plain tone she had ever heard. She guessed that after the most recent events, Razer was done with over traumatic, emotional scenes.

"I did it for the money, to put better food on the table," she admitted.

"And this relates to Marcela's father how?" Razer raised a brow, finally settling down on the futon, not caring that he was still damp from the rain.

Rosetta swallowed the lump blocking her throat. She knew he had to be angry. He had to be hurting. She could tell, although he was acting this way, he was holding it in just to get the answers he needed.

Her fingers began to tremble, "He was one of our regular customers. He seemed to favor me and one night, offered me somewhat of a proposition…"

Awkward silence hung in the air. Razer sat across from her, arms crossed and demanding her to go on. He didn't like what he was hearing. Nothing felt real. Everything seemed to transform into a long bad dream that his body refused to wake up from.

Tears finally giving in and streaming down her pale cheeks, she squeaked, "Razer-" Rosetta sat down, reaching her hand to cover his knee and he didn't object. "I'm an escort- _his_ personal esc-"

Before she could finish, his hands rushed towards her. In defense, her arms shielded her face in fear that he'd hit her again. Instead his hands held her shoulders, putting her at ease and allowing her to release her shield.

To her surprise, once she lowered her arms, Razer's confused eyes met hers. They were full of despair and sympathy.

"Why, Rosetta? That was why I got this job racing at the tracks. It's enough put better food on the table so why would you do that? I can't believe-". Razer fought the cringe tugging his lips. He couldn't help but be disgusted and deeply disturbed by this. This was wrong.

He shook his head in denial and his sister only sobbed more. "I'm sorry. I never wanted to, but I did it to make our lives better".

"You call this better? Are you living a better life because I sure as hell am not living any better! I'd rather be sleeping on the concrete then knowing you're selling off your body to someone like Marcela's father. You don't need money from the likes of him. I can take care of us now with the money I have, at least until you find something else".

Rosetta shook her head, "No Razer it's not enough! I don't want just enough to eat. I want enough to leave. To leave this country!"

He blinked at her in disbelief. Leave the country? That was almost impossible. With the government setting their soldiers at the borders and the money it would take to take a train legally, it wasn't possible. Not in this lifetime.

"Maybe, there's a better life waiting for us on the other side. A place with better food and better people. A place where we can live freely without needing to hide our children the day we marry off to someone. A place where we won't have to struggle in poverty ever again".

Her eyes lit up with the very hope he had always admired. Very faintly, it shined. It saddened him to know she was dreaming a useless fantasy.

Rubbing her shoulders consolingly, he whispered, "Rosetta we can't. It's not possible, and even if it is, I don't want to do it this way. I won't compromise your worth over leaving the country".

"No, it is possible, and there is no other way," she said in an almost offensive tone. She always thought she was right with everything. It was like she knew _exactly _what awaited them on the other side of those fences.

"Whether there is another way or not, you can't stay in this – this job of yours!" he spat, "I won't allow it!"

Suddenly her head turned and she gave him a quizzical look. Their tender moment had turned sour in a matter of seconds, which by now was no surprise to Razer.

"It's not a matter of you allowing it or not! I have to do it whether I like it or not, Razer! That's what's feeding and clothing us right now!" Slowly her voice was kicking up a notch and he found that his was doing the same.

"Rosetta! You can't go back there, even if I have to tie you in the bathroom, there's no way that I'm going to allow you to go back out there and sell yourself like canine scraps!" His grip on her shoulders tightened and she pulled away roughly.

"Razer, I have no choice and there's no room for your say in the matter! Just until we can save up enough, I can do it". Once again it was turning into an ugly argument. Razer was finding that he wasn't very fond of his bipolar mood swings being exchanged between himself and Rosetta.

"I won't allow it! You're my sister! How am I supposed to feel as your brother if I let you do this?" He yanked her wrist to him and her body fell clumsily against him. She fought like a small raging animal, but his strength was now no match for her.

Angry tears glossed over her eyes as she tried to pull away to no avail. He only held tighter until he had no choice but to wrap both his arms to restrain around her flailing hands.

She mumbled something angrily beneath her lips that Razer did not quite catch – until she repeated it. This time it was loud and clear and he had hoped, he hadn't heard right the second time around.

"You're not my brother so you don't have to worry about feeling anything!" She had finally managed to confess in one rushing breath. The moment it came spilling from her lips, she regretted it. She had planned to tell him in a more gentle and comforting way but it seemed that her emotions had gotten the best of her.

His grip on her loosened and he shoved her across from him like a contagious disease. "What the hell are you talking about? You're deranged!"

Her fingers clenched the sheets sprawled out about the floors beneath them. It was too late now. The truth had finally come out.

"I'm- I'm not your sister Razer. We're not blood related"

Once again he gave her that kicked puppy look, that look that said she had betrayed him. It destroyed her to know that she was slowly breaking his innocent image of her. He had always looked up to her, always followed her and now the sister he believed to be so true and pure was the exact opposite.

His forehead wrinkled in confusion. His heart thrashed about and sweat beaded down the nape of his neck. "I- I don't understand. The hair- the- the eyes I mean- the stories about our parents, were they-"

Rosetta turned away and nodded, "We may look a bit similar but it only made the story more believable. Our mothers were close friends and when I was just a child, your mother passed away due to an incurable disease. Your mother's last wish was to have another child but she never could and so my mother promised to care for you in any way she could.

I was left home to care for you while my mother left to work out on the other side of town, doing something similar to what I'm doing now. One night, she never came back. After that, I decided that I would raise you as my own and tell you that you were my brother. Since we only had each other, I guess it was the only fantasy I could fulfill for the both of us since we were both left alone and your mother always longed to give you a sibling".

Razer was stuck in a stunned stupor. His eyes glazed and fixed on a particular spot on the floor. His eyelids wouldn't even blink. This wasn't happening.

"Oh, Razer, you have to understand. I never meant any harm. I only did it so we wouldn't be lonely, so you could feel like you had a family".

Razer didn't respond. He just looked shallow and empty. There was another awkward silence in the air until Razer finally lowered his body onto the futon. Still dirty and sweaty, his body curled into fetus position as he laid wordlessly. She tried to reach out to him, but at the moment, he was like a lifeless corpse.

Everything he had ever known, everything he had ever seen in his 'sister'- was a lie.

"You were too young to remember Razer. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have".

He still didn't respond. Taking note of his raw, reddened knuckles, Rosetta gasped. They were freshly purple and turned blue as it stretched into the limbs of his fingers. She wondered how he endured something so painful and what had he done to receive such bruises.

She yearned to lean in and brush his hair from his eyes. She longed to hold him and rock him back and forth as she had done whenever he'd awaken from a nightmare. However, this was one nightmare she could never comfort.

He must've hated her and to think – she only did it because she loved him so.

She left the room with intentions to fetch some rags to clean the open cuts on his knuckles. By the time she had returned, her brother – no – Razer, this handsome, hurting young man had given himself to sleep. She tilted her head and observed the exhausted figure lying in bed.

_Sleep Razer. Sleep peacefully and retreat to a place where I can't hurt you…_

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The next day, Razer wasn't surprised to wake up to an empty room. By appearance, it seemed his sister had left hours ago and this time she didn't bother leaving a note. There was no point. Razer had lost all desire to stop her and had lost all hope in fulfilling his 'brotherly' duties. The only thing he had now, was his racing.

The races were successful and once again he had found himself beating Macen. Burgra was bursting with joy and cash in his pockets. Macen, on the other hand, didn't seem to care either way.

Razer had chanced a look or two in the bleachers and there were no signs of his sister or Marcela's father. Even Marcela seemed to disappear. Rumors spread of his commotion with the 'mystery' lady in the entrance the day before. It was being rumored as a forbidden love? Between the rich and a peasant? Funny how they had no idea that his 'sister' was an escort with the way Marcela's father prettied her up.

Razer scoffed at the thought of him being the peasant Romeo in the story that swoons over the poor neglected princess. At first, she'd deny him, tell him that they couldn't be together and in the fairy tale ending, they'd run away together to live off the rest of their love - filled lives. It was amusing.

He saw how the women eyed him with curiosity and maybe even attraction, the men glared at him, threatening him with their gazes. Razer only shot back a smug grin, just to toy with them. Disturbed by his reaction, they'd walk away whispering some more, mouths open with shock.

Razer shrugged as he continued to smoke the last fix in his pack. He grumbled a curse or two beneath his breath as he shook the empty box. Macen no longer handed him his extras, so he'd have to pick some up before he got home.

They were the only damn things keeping him sane. His tongue twirled around the cig between his lips, burning sensations spreading into his throat and through his nose. It was the only thing he could feel right now. After yesterday, he found that emotions were far from him.

As the tracks emptied out, Lord Burgra made his way towards his new star racer. Not showing any signs that he acknowledged his boss approaching him, Razer calmly leaned back on the hood of his vehicle. Lord Burgra was in a much too jolly mood to scold him for such disrespect. In fact, he seemed rather pleased with Razer's down in the dumps attitude lately.

"Razer, my boy. I've got much news to share with you". A stubby hand shook Razer's shoulder and he finally rose his attention to his boss.

"First, let me say this. I know you've been trying to drive a traditional model – oh hell whom am I kidding? It's an old piece of shit - Havoc 1980's don't even follow model numbers by year anymore. Now they go by versions. Macen's a Havoc V8, nice and jet-black, gearing its ugliness out on the tracks. Wouldn't you want one just as nice?"

Razer nodded, pleased with the offer of a new vehicle although he had nothing against his traditional model, or as Burgra called it, an 'old piece of shit'. It was his first racing vehicle and he found himself favoring it a bit more than the fancier models. However, it wouldn't hurt to get a new Havoc, especially if it was a Havoc V8.

With another reassuring pound, Burgra nodded, "A Havoc version 8, coming right up. Matter in fact, to save time, you can just have Macen's".

Razer turned to him wide eyed. Taking Macen's vehicle was like asking him for a leg or a liver. It felt forbidden, seeing how precious the car was to him. He loved that car and for him to just snatch it from him was sinful.

"But, my Lord, I'm afraid I can't do that. What is Macen going to race in if I take his Havoc?"

They were slowly making their way toward Burgra's back office, located in the rear of the garage. "I wouldn't dwell too much on what Macen's going to drive seeing that he won't be racing too long either way". A thick tongue swept over his mustache deviously and Razer decided he didn't like the way Burgra's smile was suddenly so slick. He had something in mind, and that something had him involved, whether he liked it or not.

"By that Sir, what do you mean? Is Macen going to retire?" Retire? There was no such thing as retiring in this business. Racing was illegal. Anyone involved could never be freed from it unless it they were six feet under.

Opening the heavy, dusty door with a push, Burgra gestured that Razer enter his private office. With another slick grin, he urged, "Enter. I have a proposition for you that I feel you may rather like the reward".

Razer shook his head inwardly. Every time a proposition comes up, whether its in his life or Rosetta's, it was never really one at all. He had a feeling; this one would be no different.

With that last thought, Razer stepped in, right into what felt like the very pit of the lion's den, ready to devour him whole.

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As Razer entered his home that night, he found another presence was waiting for him in the dark. Unfortunately, it wasn't his sisters.

The sweet, familiar smell stealthily made her way towards Razer as soon as he came through the door. Clutching his open shirt in her fingers, she pleaded, "Razie, please! Let me stay here!"

He grabbed her hands in his, shaking his head with a sigh, "Marcela, you can't stay here. How did you find out where I lived, anyway? This could be dangerous".

Marcela pushed herself towards him. Her tears glistened with the dim moonlight from the windows. "I followed you one night and found out this was where your home was located. Please- I need to stay here for tonight. I can't stand to be home any longer- not while my father-"

Razer hushed her, deciding he'd rather not hear the rest of that sentence since it most likely included Rosetta's name in it. It sent a sting through his chest and he winced. Marcela clawed the skin on his shoulders.

"Please! I fear being alone!" Her blond curls found themselves resting in the center of his chest. Her fingers crept their way around his back without consent as she nuzzled her soft lips into his shirt.

"Lady Marcela- you can't. I just-"

"Please! Just this once…Razer?" This time her glistening eyes bored into his as she looked up, begging to be comforted. She looked so vulnerable, so lonesome. She looked like she was hurting just as he was. It was too difficult to resist.

Her nails scratched down his spine, sending new sensations riding up his back. Growling with new arousal and biting his cheek to control himself, he held her shoulders. He knew he should've been pushing her away, telling her to run as far as she could from him. He couldn't do it though, not after what he was feeling after that meeting with his boss. Not after knowing the new 'proposition' he had no choice but to comply to.

Impatient and not waiting for Razer's answer, Marcela held him tighter, brushing her lips against the crook of his neck. He was still dusty, sweaty from the tracks, the smell of murder sifting from his skin, but she didn't care. She begged, whispered, pleaded through her tears to be taken.

"Please, make me forget- and for you I'll do the same. I'll make you forget".

That was all he needed to fist her hair and dive his lips into hers. He wanted to forget. Forget who he was, forget how he lived. He wanted to forget about Rosetta, forget about Macen. All he ever wanted more than ever was to forget, at least for the night.

Lowly moaning and melting into his touch, Marcela grinded her thighs against him, slowly breaking his will. Grunting with approval, he lifted her up and her legs desperately wrapped around his back.

All that was running through his mind was the feel of this woman's needs rubbing all over him. Her sweet smell sunk into him and her warmth, warmth he hadn't felt in months, was enveloping him.

Clutching her thick thighs beneath the hem of her dress, his arousal sent her to grab his hair, calling his name for satisfaction. Razer gave in as he started heading towards the bedroom.

Between hard breathes, she asked, "Where- where are we going?"

Giving her lips another lingering nibble, he answered, "To my room- to forget".

That night he took her and that night he had forgotten all that he could. Forgot how wrong it was to be sexing Lady Marcela, forgotten how dangerous her father was. He had forgotten that he had no food to eat when he woke up and forgotten about the miserable life he was living.

He had even almost forgotten – that Macen would be dead by the next night and it would be by his hands.

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**I apologize. I said Rayn would make an appearance in this chap but it turned out so long, I wasn't able to get to that part. Next chap, I guarantee, will be the last part of Razer's remaining past and back to main storyline, including seeing more of Rayn. Hope his past was intriguing enough to keep you entertained until next time.**

**Thanks for being supportive and patient. **


	10. Chapter 10 : A Racing Champion is Born

**Chapter 10**

_Wanted for multiple charges punishable by a life sentence in prison:_

_-Treason against the government_

_-Illegal gambling_

_-Illegal racing_

_-Possession of a stolen vehicle(s)_

_-Rape and sexual assault_

_-Multiple homicides_

_-Premeditated murder_

Rayn looked up from the manila file on her desk with a sigh. Keeping her palm over his picture, she tried to contain all remorse towards the racer, in attempt to get to know him through his crimes. Each and every crime continued to shock her, although she knew she shouldn't have been surprised. Still, for one man to have so much dirt in his past, it's all a wonder how he got to where he was now.

It sent a shiver up her spine to think that such murderous, perverse hands were stringing through her hair only days ago. She wasn't sure if her body quaked from fear or something else. It was strange. For that one moment, his hands had felt so gentle, so careful and yet, these were the same hands that committed multiple murders and even rape?

The word 'rape', sent another shiver through her, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. The victim - a Marcela something. She tried not to dwell too much on the names and she didn't even want to _begin _imagining the torture sessions they had set up for the man while he was doing time.

Shaking her head with disapproval, she couldn't help but give into her curiosity and see his picture. Of course, he looked rather unhappy in it – hell, he was arrested, but it was a younger version, what he was like when he was around her age. She slowly peeled her fingers from the picture on the file, feeling as if she were peeking at someone's diary.

His face was younger and his cheeks were fuller. His skin was still pale, except in this picture, he took on a less classy look. He was more rugged, his shoulders broad, and his body smeared with what must've been a mixture of oil and blood. His long hair was tousled messily across his face and his eyes - dulled with what must've been blown out ambition, dulled by cruel reality.

You would expect most mug shots to be hideous, men full of anger and sneering. However, in this picture, he looked lost, and sad.

Rayn soon found that the more she stared at the picture, the more her eyes begun to sting. Was this sympathy? Sorrow? Something about the expression in his picture made her wonder what it would've been like if she had met him at that age. Maybe he was full of dreams, full of goals and just as rambunctious as any other teen. Maybe he was a lady charmer and fan girls flocked around him after every race. Somehow, she found it a bit hard to imagine Razer as a bubbly teen. Judging by the photo, she assumed he was far from bubbly.

Her index finger absently began to trace over the jaw line of his photo and before she could apply anymore thought as to why she was even doing such a thing, a clap of thunder made her jolt upright from her seat. With a startled gasp, a gust of harsh wind breezed its way through the window and onto her bare shoulders, only covered in thin laces of silk. Huddling her elbows, Rayn scurried over to the large window of her bedroom and reached up to slam it shut.

For some odd reason, the moment she had shut the window, the dim light and the wind howling made her feel like she had just shut out something important. Something like a cry for help being carried along the wind to her.

_Nonsense_, she thought as she shook her head with a yawn. She released the braid of long hair down her back with one last lingering stare at the younger Razer on her desk. She decided it was best to sleep before she had anymore peculiar, philosophical thoughts.

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Razer's lungs dragged themselves heavily from the agonizing scream he had bellowed into the night. Clutching his temples, he growled monstrously. He wanted to stop thinking, stop dreaming of these things. It drove him mad.

The dark sheets in his king size bed only added to the cold sweat he had awakened in. The size of the bed only made him feel lonely and small instead of comforted. To think that he would've traded this lush, silky bed for a space on the floor anytime next to _her_.

Without another minute's dwelling, Razer sat on the edge of his bed and slipped on a pair of black, initialed slippers. It was four in the morning and although his body beckoned for sleep, it was a call he'd have to ignore. Although he hadn't had much sleep within almost two weeks, he'd rather not invite his body into another episode of convulsing.

Putting the coffee pot into the machine, he rested his palms on the cold tiles of the kitchen counter. Just then, a bouquet of crimson roses caught his eye. He had received them earlier from one of his loyal fans, most likely a woman, considering they were flowers. Earlier, the gift had helped to add cheer to what felt like another gray day. Now, as he woke up fresh from another dream, they began to taunt him.

So precious – so beautiful, like Rosetta had been. Now the crimson petals had only reminded him of what he had done to her, of what he had wished he could take back for years.

It was him – he killed her.

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What is a murderer?

Murderers are those government hounds in uniform, that bark around from house to house, dragging children away from their mothers only to never be seen again. Murderers are those strange, shady men that you see stalking dark alleyways, talking to themselves and eyeing any passerby's that may be their next victim. Murderers are people full of hatred, full of greed, possessed by their corrupted ways that lead them to take another's life.

Murderers are those that seek pleasure in power, seek pleasure in fatality and arouse at the metallic taste of someone else's crimson upon their own weapon, upon their skin. They lash out during a fit of rage or perhaps jealousy, and somewhere inside them, something snaps and transforms them from seemingly normal people, into a killer within moments.

Murderers don't have loving sisters or dreams of becoming the next racing champion. They don't grow up playing pretend games and buying groceries for their neighbor. Murderers don't have aspirations, goals, or dreams of better lives.

The definition of the word 'murderer' seemed too perplexed now. It was as if the fingers rubbing against the sharp blade in his pocket were not his own. Killers are supposed to be dark, devilish people who slide their tongues at the sight of death.

Although he had to admit, he too, had the occasional twinge of pride and power every time he sent his missiles flying at another vehicle during the races. He too, had a slip of the grin as he drove by piles of exploding metal that he knew he was responsible for. He'd even admit there were times he stepped out onto the finish line, blood spattered across his chest and it didn't even faze him. Instead, it was like wearing the skin of an animal you had just hunted and you wore it as a trophy of your accomplishment.

It never occurred to him that the men in the vehicles were men just like him. Maybe they weren't all harsh criminals by choice. Maybe they too, had been dragged into an unwanted life because there was nowhere else to go.

Just like him. He was being dragged into this life and there was nowhere else for him to go. There were no better choices. There was no savior. There was no escape from this miserable life except for a life just as miserable or worse.

Sometimes you had to do things you really didn't want to do for the people you loved. That was something he was beginning to understand and now, more than ever, he was beginning to understand Rosetta.

Although she wasn't his sister, and although his pain was still ripe from their last meeting, he found that upon waking up beside Marcela in the middle of the night, he had longed for it to be Rosetta. He had longed to feel Rosetta's arms around him and as for more, those were feelings that he still forbade himself to dwell on just yet.

Now, it was too late to tell her how much he understood her or how he came to this understanding. Right now, he had a mission to fulfill, and although he wasn't too fond of doing it, he'd do it for her. He'd do it for them and for the money they'd have afterwards. It was worth it, wasn't it?

The words that Burgra instructed him stuck in his head, 'Be stealthy, be slick and be swift'. Those were like the holy words that led to the promise land. Just follow these words and all that you ever asked for will be handed to you. Just don't apply any thought to it and in the end, you will reach gold.

All he had to do was simple, just sneak into Macen's home and get it over with. Macen lived a life of solitude despite the cocky attitude around the swarms of women on the tracks. No one knew if he ever had a family, a wife, or what kind of life he led before his life of crime. He was a man veiled in mystery, a mystery that only Burga held the key to.

He didn't ask Burgra his reasons for wanting this or why he had chosen him for such a task. Razer had only readily agreed to it because of the reward that Burgra claimed was not up to his refusal.

Now here he was, in the bowels of night, beside a shack almost similar to his own. Only this one was twice as big and the windows weren't cracked. He was sure candles didn't light up the inside, either. Maybe he had a real bed to sleep on, as well.

Although Macen was the star of the tracks, he could not flaunt his prize money through his possessions since the sport was illegal and would cause the government to become suspicious. Instead he must settle for this somewhat livable space and use his prizes for other things.

Shaking his head from any further admiration of his home, Razer then stepped into the shrubs nearby. Eyeing his surroundings one last time for any witnesses, he decided it was safe to pursue.

Like a rat steadily making it's way through the holes of the walls, Razer crept into an open window unnoticed and silently. It was quiet and dark. He slipped into what seemed like Macen's bedroom. Just like had had guessed, Macen did have a real bed and not only that, but a bedroom set to match. It wasn't brand new or expensive, but with the kind of life one usually lived here, it was luxury.

He tried not be distracted from his objective and slinked his way to the doorway. The long hall ahead of him was also dark. A dim light at the end signaled that must've been where Macen was currently residing.

A small pile of luggage leaning against the wall caught Razer's eye and intrigued his curiosity. Was Macen going somewhere? Well if he was, he'd soon find that he wouldn't ever make it to that destination.

Swiftly creeping down the hall, back sliding against the walls, Razer slipped the unsullied blade from his pocket. It switched open with a quick ring and he was ready. It was brand new and so sharp that it would tear a hole straight through his thigh if he didn't have it closed in his pocket.

Razer listened closely to what was in the room beside him. Faintly he could hear the steady rhythm of breathing. There didn't seem to be any movement.

It was now or never. 'Don't think, just don't think,' Razer chanted to himself in his head. His palms began to sweat and he was sure that the loud thumping in his chest could be heard in the room and would give him away.

_Now!_

Within the blink of an eye, Razer spun into the room, blade out and ready to slash. Except once entering the room, he found that the presence he had just felt moments ago was gone.

_What? I could've sworn I heard him…_

As if confirming his thoughts, the presence seemed to appear behind him and before he could spin around in his defense, he felt the coolness of someone else's blade upon his neck. Razer froze, hand holding his own weapon still in the air.

"Did you think I did not expect you?" Macen's voice was low in his ear and calm. Razer could feel his chest pressing against his back and his blade stinging his skin.

Macen laughed lowly and Razer's brows bent in confusion. What was he finding so amusing? Why hadn't he sliced his throat yet?

"Why don't you be done with it already?" Razer huffed, carefully waiting for a vulnerable moment to catch the prized racer.

"Done with it? Oh, you mean done with you? I apologize. I was under the impression that usually this was the part where we'd struggle because you too, treasured your life".

Razer cringed and then grinned, "Treasured my life? Hmm, hmm, that is where you're mistaken, Macen".

"Oh? Is that so? So tell me, Razer, if you do not treasure your own life, then whose do you treasure? Why do you commit yourself to doing something such as this?"

"I do it for her!" He let out in a grunt before taking a hold of Macen's arm on his neck and sending a quick elbow to his abdomen. Razer spun around and met Macen's fist across his jaw. Both men were sent into a wall where they wrestled onto the floor, eagerly trying to push their blades into the other, but both unsuccessful.

"I guess- this is the end- of our rivalry," Macen managed to say between trading punches and through heavy breaths.

Razer did not answer and instead continued to fight with him. Rolling on top of him, Macen lifted the collar of his shirt and threw him back onto the floor. The harsh impact of his spine on the floor caused Razer to drop his blade. Fumbling to reach it, Razer tried to pry Macen off of him. He even managed a cut to the shoulder without so much of a wince.

"Rosetta-" Razer had said unintentionally under his breath, as he tried to put all his effort into reaching for his weapon. Finally, with a groan, his fingers got a hold of it.

It only took a moment for Razer's fist to go cutting through the air and into the thick shoulder of the man on top of him. Letting out a yelp, Macen keeled over onto the floor, freeing Razer beneath him. He had dropped his blade in the process.

Whoever said that killing a man was an easy task had to have not done so himself. Stabbing a knife into a man was like stabbing a rod into a tree trunk. A human body, built with layers of muscle and bone was not so easily cut, as many would have others believe. It took strength to fully thrust something through someone's body and more strength to pull it right back out.

Razer made this discovery upon pulling the blade from Macen's shoulder. The blade felt like it had put on ten pounds and was stubbornly attached to the bone. The blood making the handle slippery did not make gripping it any easier and the painful groans of the victim in front of him did not make it any easier on his mind.

Finally growing impatient with trying to pull the knife from Macen's shoulder, he took all he had and yanked it from his body, earning another yell from the stabbed man. Razer almost fell back from pulling it out, but quickly regained composure.

He didn't expect to have such a hard time with, but then again, he had only killed using weapons from vehicles. What Razer didn't expect the most was when Macen took a hold of his fist, holding the blade, and stabbed it into his own chest?

"Wh-What the hell?" Razer blurted out as his victim, aiding Razer in his own murder, led his hand. It didn't make any sense!

"Are you mad!" Razer blurted out again as Macen's grip on his fist tightened, setting the blade deeper into him. The white-haired racer surprisingly grinned, blood trickling from between his teeth.

"You'll be just like me kid. Matter in fact, you already are. Such a sad story…"

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Razer yelled at Macen, now lying on the floor as he let Razer murder him.

"Lured in by blackmail, forced by life, you'll someday enslave yourself to a life that you have no choice to live. It's too bad. I had higher hopes for you"

Razer just blinked at the dying man looking up at him. He was speechless. The hand on the blade had gone limp and Macen had released his hold on him. Why? Why was he allowing Razer to kill him?

"Do me a favor, ey? Tell her I said goodbye and that I'm sorry too. You can take over from here"

Razer shook his head, "Her? Who? I don't understand!" He took hold of Macen's shirt, lifting him off of the ground.

Macen smiled again, this time more gently, "And another tip, next time you kill, treat the knife like you're throwing darts. The impact from afar can easily penetrate someone if thrown right, or you can always go for the neck. That's always the-" Macen began to cough, his life now slipping away.

Razer felt a burn in his eyes. A part of him wished they had become better friends in a different lifetime. A part of him wished he had known more about him before he had to take his life away. Did he have some happiness in his life? Did he have any dreams? Were they really so much alike? Now he would never know.

Macen struggled to reach up and right away Razer knew what he was reaching for. Razer set the bleeding man back on the floor and grabbed the cigarette that was lying nearby. It was probably behind his ear before their wrestling match took place.

Using his own lighter, he lit the cigarette and placed it in between Macen's lips. Macen gave him one last appreciative look before his eyes closed and the cigarette went limp.

Razer stared at the body before him for a moment before he stood up. It was too late to regret anything now and technically, he had killed himself. It seemed like he was waiting to be killed by the right person and for some reason, Razer was the right person.

Razer lit a cigarette of his own, in Macen's honor, and calmly walked out of his home through the back door. Just like expected, his reward money was in a suitcase, hiding in the shrubs. Burgra promised it would be there once his spies confirmed that his task was complete. Razer opened the suitcase to quickly scan and approve his reward, before snapping it shut and retreating.

Macen's last words lingered in his mind as he started to walk home, from the assassination tips to the apology he was supposed to deliver to a woman who he did not know of.

A part of him hoped that someone would give him a proper burial, but somehow he knew, in a place like this, that wouldn't happen. His only priority at the moment was to get back home and tell his sister that they finally had the money to do away with their depressing lives.

As he walked home, a knock in the back of his thoughts somehow taunted him that such fantasies were never that easy to accomplish.

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"Rosetta!" Razer called into the small halls of his home, once hearing the familiar footsteps enter. Candlelight pouring through the crack of the bathroom door signaled that she had finally returned. The sun was arriving through the clouds and he was glad she wasn't home at the exact moment he returned from his 'task'. It gave him time to shower and wash away the night's events.

She responded with a content hum. He was sure things were still awkward since their last confrontation where she confessed to him the truth. By now, after all the sins he had just committed, hers were long gone from his mind. Now he just wanted to take her away, take her to wherever she wanted to be. Just the two of them – together.

The bathroom door opened, mist drifted into the room and Razer stepped in with a towel wrapped around him. He could barely contain his excitement any longer. He scurried to the kitchen sink to reach Rosetta.

Her face was hovered over the sink where she was washing away her makeup. Standing behind her as he waited for her to dry her face, Razer smiled at the sight. Once she turned, the sunlight gleaming across her skin at just the right angle could make any sin wash away. No matter how tired he knew she looked or unhappy, when he looked at her, she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Upon seeing his jovial expression, she arched a baffled brow at him. "Razer?"

Razer took a hold of her damp hands, still holding the small washcloth. "I have news for you, the best news you'll ever hear".

Rosetta set the cloth on the sink ledge before returning her hand into Razer's. She tried to disregard the fact that her brother – no – this young man was dripping wet and the only thing covering him was a small towel around his tight waist.

"We can finally leave! Leave this horrible place forever! Think about it, Rosetta! Just you and me-"

Rosetta blinked, "Wha- I don't understand. What nonsense are you babbling?"

He pulled her closer. His chest heaved with joy as he lowered his forehead on hers. Crimson heat spread through her cheeks.

"Rosetta, we can finally leave this country. I have the money. We can do it".

There was a moment of silence. Rosetta was speechless. She didn't know how to react. Realizing that Rosetta was frozen with shock, Razer released his hold on her to fetch the suitcase.

"Let me show you, then…"

Her green eyes went wide at the sight of neatly piled bills, layered and wrapped in rubber bands in the black suitcase. She had never seen so much money up front, even in her occupation. There was no way he could acquire such funds in such a short amount of time. It was impossible. He had to have – have done something wrong, really wrong.

She grabbed the edges of the leather suitcase with her trembling hands. She looked around frantically before raising her nervous glare to Razer. Fear took hold of her heart the very moment she laid eyes on the money in front of her.

"R-Razer, how did you get this? What did you do?" Her eyes grew watery and his smile faded.

He closed the suitcase and put it on the table. He didn't turn back to her to see her troubled expression. Her frightened voice neared him, quaking with sobs.

"What did you do?"

Her fingers grabbed his bare shoulder and he pulled away roughly. He turned and Rosetta could see the stern expression through the side of his taut jaw line.

"I finally get us the money so you can leave this job of yours and we can leave this country and this is how you react?" His voice was low and angry.

Another moment of silence passed before she whispered apologetically. "I apologize. It's just that- I'm afraid to ask what it is that you've done in order to get so much. I won't be able to see you as Razer anymo-"

"Just like I couldn't see you as my sister when you told me you became an escort!"

She backed away with the sudden outburst from him. His words shot through her painfully but she knew there was nothing she could say to counter it. It was true. She was in no place to judge him, not after all she had done. Just like she had done all she did for him, it seemed that he had done the same.

"I think I'm just tired. I'm retiring to bed now," she whispered again before he heard her footsteps gently make their way to their bedroom.

Once he was sure she was gone, his palms slammed against the table in anger. He was sure she had heard but he couldn't help it. He had just killed a man! Murdered him just to make her happy and this was how she repaid him? She had no right to look down on him, to lecture him. She had no right.

After a half hour of sulking, Razer decided it was best to head back to the tracks to let things cool down a bit. Before he left, he hid the suitcase in a wall in their closet. He also stopped by the bedroom to take a glace at Rosetta as she slept.

Sitting on his heels beside her, he reached forward to brush a stray black curl on her face. Her shoulders lifted with steady breaths and he sighed.

His thumb brushed against her chin and lightly grazed her bottom lip. His eyes were hot. After all that he had done, after all that she had done, he had hoped that when he returned from the tracks that they could work their differences out.

"I'm sorry Rosetta…" He whispered unto his former sister lovingly, leaving her with a light kiss in her hair.

Lingering his gaze on her peaceful form for a bit longer, Razer left the room with the thought in mind that a race in the dirt would help him relieve some of this stress.

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All Razer wanted was to feel the wind thrash through his hair and feel the heat from the explosions on his cheeks. All he wanted was to thrust the gas pedal and swerve through sharp turns to the point where he felt like he was flying. That was all he wanted and then he would just go home and try the 'good news' thing with Rosetta again.

He never expected the sight he would come upon. He should've sensed it sooner. He heard the dogs' howls echoing through the narrow buildings. Uniforms scattered about and increased as he headed closer to the track hideout.

Razer slipped from wall to wall, just as he had done the night before. He was surprised that such a ruckus was being caused in broad daylight. Something big was taking place.

A familiar voice cried out and he heard it running toward him.

"Marcela", Razer yanked the woman's back to his chest, covering her mouth to mute her cries. She shook in panic for a moment before realizing it was Razer.

"What's going on here?" He felt her tears dripping on his fingers.

Cautiously, he released her shaking mouth. "They found us. The government is raiding the tracks".

"What? How?"

"It seems that Macen snitched Lord Burgra out. The Lord sent someone to dispose of him and anyone connected to him but it seems that he didn't get him in time"

Razer swallowed the dry lump in his throat, "But why? Why would Macen-"

"Rumor is he had found a lover and had wanted to get away. However, he could not be freed from Burgra's chains unless he rid of him somehow".

Razer had heard enough. Everything was falling into place and falling into pieces right before him. Marcela whimpered and tried to shake free.

"Please, Razie, they're going to arrest everyone involved. They have my father. They will find out about you and then- and then-"

He spun her around to face him. He knew she'd be captured sooner or later and when they found her, a thorough investigation if followed would reveal traces of Razer's semen flowing through her system. Surely she was still fresh from him.

Her blond ringlets were frizzy, her dress dripping with mud. Her makeup streaked with blackened tears. The poor woman was shivering with fear.

"Listen to me, Lady Marcela. When they catch you, tell them I made you do it. Tell them I forced you to. They'll believe you. You have beauty and power. Your father surely does not want to ruin his wealthy reputation any farther".

She shook her head, "Razer please, you have to run. Run as far as you can".

He looked down into the eyes of the woman he had slept with only two nights ago. Sure, she was obnoxious at times, and had even caused him a bit of trouble. Yet through it all, she was just another lonely human being seeking the warmth of another as he had done during his hard times without his sister.

Quickly, he pressed his lips against hers. He owed her at least that before he nodded to her and ran the opposite direction. Marcela didn't hesitate before she ran, as well.

The roar of the dogs blurred in the wind as he ran, ran as fast as he could.

_Please Rosetta, please be there when I get there. We must run! Now we have no choice!_

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_Everything – falling – into place and into pieces…_

"Rosetta! Rosetta, where are you!" Razer screeched before he even turned the corner to his home. He was sure he had ran faster than his Havoc ever could.

His heart came to a halt once he reached his doorstep. The wooden door was kicked down to reveal a hall of thrashed clothing and wrecked walls. His eyes widened at the sight of blood drops, scattered upon the old floor.

"Rosetta! Where are you?" Razer's fingers followed the walls. Some spare bills were spread about. His reward, that he had hidden, was now gone. It didn't matter though, either way they had to run. They had to-

His knees buckled beneath him once he entered the bedroom. Although sunlight beamed through the windows, darkness clouded the room. Night had befallen his bedroom. Darkness had befallen his life.

"Ros- Rosetta…" Razer sputtered his words before he fell to the floor, reaching out for a body laying in front of him. His sister's body, Rosetta's body. Tears freely flowed down his pale cheeks. This would be the last time he'd shed tears.

"Razer," she whispered as she was cradled into the firm arms of her former brother. She weakly raised a hand to cup his wet cheek.

His eyes stared, stared at her body. Blood soaked through her clothing, puddles leaked underneath her onto the futon in which they once slept in. Her bright eyes were dulling with the life being drained from her.

"Oh, my God," Razer buried his face into her neck. He didn't understand. Why? Why had all this happened?

As if reading his mind, she brushed aside his hair and spoke to him lovingly, covering the pain she was feeling.

"Razer, I have so much to confess. First, I am sorry for earlier. I am grateful for what you had done for me". She was coughing; her voice was low and raspy as she struggled to get her words across to him.

Razer shook his head, sobbing harder into her neck. No, this could not be happening. She was all he had left. There was nothing after this.

"Who did this to you? Who!"

"A man named Burgra sent his men here. Apparently his goal was to dispose of me as evidence connected to someone else…"

In a second, multitudes of words and moments came crashing through his mind.

The luggage in Macen's home. The apology to this mystery woman before he died. Marcela saying Burgra would rid any and everything connected to Macen, who he was sent to finish off. Macen only tried to escape Burgra's chains in order to finally run and the only way to do that was to snitch the secrets of the tracks. Burgra tried to prevent it by sending these secrets to their grave.

Burgra had only raised Razer as a prized racer to keep his business going after he had disposed of Macen, never knowing that Rosetta was not only Macen's accomplice, but Razer's precious sister.

Macen was helping him all along, helping his sister raise the money to run. He had killed Macen and Burgra's men had come to kill his sister.

"I'm sorry, Razer. It was my fault. I was involved with Macen. He said he would help me, help us gather the money to leave, but our plan never got the chance to fall through. I'm sorry…"

"No. No, no, no! It's all my fault! It's all because of me!" He held her body tighter to his, squeezing her fragile hand on his face.

She hushed him. "It's okay now. Hush. Just- just hold me,".

Razer obeyed as he stroked her cheek, his tears mixing with hers on her face. He mumbled all sorts of apologies and confessions as she feebly whispered the same.

"Rosetta please, please, don't leave me," he begged, shaking with emotion, but there was nothing he could do to prolong her withering life.

Oddly enough, she granted him a mild smile. "You'll be a great man someday. I know it. I'll always be with you and I hope- that you can find another love as great as mine".

"No, I don't want to. The only love I've ever desired is yours. Please…"

She hushed him once again. Her palm on his cheek began to fall and her smile slowly stilled. "Live on Razer…my prized racer".

These were her last words before those beautiful green gems had shut themselves off from him forever.

Razer screamed, screamed like a raging animal that'd just gone mad. He rocked her body in his arms, praying and cursing to the heavens. Everything had happened so fast, and in the end, nothing good had come out of it.

Burgra's smug grin flashed through his mind and his new animalistic rage took over.

_I'll kill him! I'll kill him, I swear!_

He looked one last time at Rosetta's face. She had raised him, fed him, taught him so many of life's lessons. She had cleaned his bruises, wiped his tears and rocked him into sleep. She had whispered soothing words of love to him over and over and he had never gotten the chance to return it.

He wasn't enough to protect her. He wasn't enough to save her.

His bloodied fingertips brushed aside her locks of dark hair from her paling face. Placing a kiss upon the corner of her mouth, he whispered for her to rest in peace.

As he set her down and covered her with the blanket nearby, he thought she had looked just like the Snow White from the fairytales. Her lips were blue and awaited her prince to awake her from slumber. However he knew, no matter how many times he'd try to kiss her, she'd never awaken.

He turned to the door and his eyes flared, flared with murderous intent. And it was aimed at one key man.

Lord Burgra…

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"Quick! Capture that man! He's a murderer!" A soldier yelled to his subordinates. Crowds of men propped up on their loyal steeds chased after the criminal, dogs barking and trailing behind.

No matter how fast their horses trotted or how loud their hounds barked, the Havoc was far superior in speed.

Razer had managed to sneak by the crime scene and get a hold of his Havoc parked outside under government possession. Now as he rammed across the narrow streets in this illegal vehicle, he had one goal in his mind and neither gun nor animal could slow him down.

The sun had already begun to sink. Hours had passed and Razer raced across miles of town and city in which he had never laid eyes on. In time, he was able to seclude himself far enough from them to attract Lord Burgra. Like the rat he was, he was most likely in hiding, waiting for the right opportune person to help him out in a pinch. Just as expected, as Razer drove nearby the popular bars in which Burgra often spoke of, the man came running out and jumped into his vehicle without uncertainty.

"Quick! We must escape!" Little did he know, he had just thrown himself into something much worse than he'd ever anticipate. Nothing would ever compare to the wrath Razer had planned for him.

"Going the same way I am, so it seems. Hmm, hmm," Razer grinned deviously before hitting the gas and driving off once again.

Burgra was so focused on ducking in his seat and looking for soldiers, that he paid no mind to the deadly glares traded to him by his prized racer. In time, Razer had driven into an isolated area, where the road was cut off and under construction. He ran over the orange warning signs and the road beneath them grew rocky.

Burgra bumped in his seat, frantically smoking his cigar. Razer almost found it amusing that he had no clue that he was driving him to his death. He had no clue that the woman who he thought to be Macen's lover, was really his sister. The capacity of what he had done to Razer would never hit him.

"Where- where are we going?"

Razer stopped the vehicle dead center in the middle of a muddy path. In the distance, you could hear horses galloping on concrete. It would take them a few minutes to arrive. Burgra gripped the side of the door.

"Are you trying to get caught! They're coming for us! We need to leave right now!"

"Don't worry, my Lord. This will only take a moment". Razer smiled again as he opened the same switchblade he had used on Macen. His tongue swept across the edge, wet with bloodlust.

Burgra gasped, "Razer! What are you doing!". Before he could squiggle his way free, Razer took a firm hold of his collar. He yanked the man to him. His hot breath fell on his face and Burgra saw the madness in his eyes. He froze with terror.

"Please, please don't! What have I ever done to you! Razer, it's me, remember? We're in this together!"

"The woman you killed was my sister! You made me kill my friend and then you went and sent your men to kill my sister! You expect to live?" Razer teased the blade on Burgra's mustache. The sharp edge sent strings of gray floating into the air with every light swing of it.

"Your sister! I- I- I had no idea! I swear that I never knew!"

It didn't matter whether he knew or not. Razer had a feeling that since the moment Burgra had begun to mold him into his personal apprentice and racer, he had known a lot more than he was admitting to. Now he would pay the price for his snake-like schemes.

He continued to beg for his life and Razer's eyes only widened more with rage. With a sick smile, he lifted his blade. Everything after that blacked out until Razer blinked and realized Burgra's shredded body was still clenched in his hands. The blade was still embedded in his neck and various other objects protruded from his body.

He must've lost himself in his anger and grabbed whatever he could to stab into this murderer's body. Burgra had taken away the most precious person in life to him and now Razer showed no mercy in granting him a cruel fate - just as he had dealt him.

Unclamping his choking grip on his shoulders, he somehow found the strength to lift his round body out of the vehicle. Razer walked towards the sound of the horses, carrying Burgra's body in his arms. As the horses came into view, Razer threw Burgra's body toward them and hoofs mercilessly trampled over what was left of his handy work.

He looked crazed. Drunk with killer intent. Soldiers aimed their tranquilizer guns at him and although numerous darts shot through him, he was too numb to feel it. As his skull came crashing into the mud, Razer did not feel a thing.

As far as he was concerned, everything was over.

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After a thorough investigation, in which Razer bluntly admitted to all the charges, he was sent for a whipping before thrown into the cells. The cells were small, box-like, and cold. The bricks were damp and the futons were few. Too many men were forced into one, causing the most superior to get dibs on the bed.

"So you're the new guy, eh? Seems you think you're pretty tough, racing across the country like that. Heard you were stupid enough to give yourself up when you could've escaped".

Razer said nothing. What was the point? What was he running away to? There was no money. There was no Rosetta. There was no Macen. There was no racing. There was no paradise. He didn't even know why he was even alive.

"Hey there! I'm talkin' to you!" A hairy, stubby hand reached out to threaten Razer but his quick reflexes caught the man's arm mid-air.

"Hmm, seems like the one who thinks too highly of himself is you, rather than me"

The man led a group of three other men, standing behind him with crossed arms and crossed faces. Each had a small weapon ready to use because, unlike prisons in other countries, here it was thought best that such smut-ridden men kill themselves off rather than take up living space.

The man was large, long, black hair curling down his back. His sneer revealed a set of missing, decaying teeth and it was obvious he was trying to make Razer another one of his dogs. Razer was beginning to get tired of being someone else's dog.

To his advantage, Razer felt that his blade was still in his pocket. His now solemn green eyes scrolled over the man before him. Big, ugly, but had a nice blue trench coat.

"I think it is in your best interest to get your grubby hands off me, boy," the man snarled again, twirling his own blade in his other hand.

"Hmm, I think it is in your best interest to let me be. I'm no one's bitch," Razer twisted the man's wrist and he growled.

In seconds they charged at him. 'Just like darts,' Razer said to himself as he shot his blade across the cell at the farthest thug. The groan signaled it had hit him; meanwhile, Razer sent an elbow to this other man's abdomen, still twisting his wrist enough to hear a crack. The blade fell and Razer was swift enough to grab that one and fling it at another just as perfectly and painfully.

In moments, the struggle had ended. Razer had his back against the bars, chest heaving while he held his cheek. They'd managed to swipe his cheek once. His tongue licked the salty blood from the corner of his lips before spitting it onto the man squirming under his foot.

The man looked up at him, eyes bulging with shock. He saw it. Razer was still wild with fresh rage and murderous intent. It wasn't wise to push his luck any farther and even if they could take him, they'd end up with some serious injuries in the end.

A sick smile crossed over the man's features. "I like you, bo-".

"It's not 'boy'. It's Razer".

"Sharp. Suits you well," the man waved his hands in surrender and Razer lifted his foot off his chest to free him.

The man got up, wiping the dust off his pants before slipping the long coat down his shoulders. He handed it to the young man before him as his partners pulled the blades from their body.

Razer arched a suspicious brow, "And this is?"

"Means you get dibs on the bed tonight, and every night afterwards, if you keep handling yourself that way".

He nodded with understanding. The one who survived the most, the one with the most wits, not only strength, led the pack in each cell. He didn't need bulging arms like the men in this cell to be superior, he obviously had a lot more than they did.

He swung the trench coat over his broad shoulders and slipped his arms into the sleeves. It was a bit big, but kept him warm in the fifty-degree cell. Sinking his hands into his pockets, he lowered his head to the concrete.

_Rosetta…_

"Anyone have a fix?"

Four different hands eagerly reached out to hand him a pack and he shook his head. Perhaps, this was the way fate had planned it all along. You were born into a cruel world, dreaming of goals you'd never achieve. No matter how hard you tried to escape destiny, it caught up to you with its shackles.

Now it was either rot in prison or hope to die. His sister and racing were all but a distant dream.

Years had passed and nothing out of the ordinary happened in Razer's life. He kept himself occupied in the weight training room and from time to time, if he behaved, he was even allowed to modify government vehicles.

The trench coat never left his shoulders and at the most, the only thing that changed was the hair growing down Razer's eyes and his arms firming on a daily basis. The four men in his cell loyally obeyed him, trying to soak in Razer's wisdom on cars and combat racing.

They were all like naïve children, who had never heard of such a thing. From time to time, they'd even trade their dreams, what they had once wished to become before somehow, that 'thing' snapped inside them and made them criminals.

At the age of twenty, all Razer could ever expect for his birthday was a load full of nicotine pushed through the bars from cells across and beneath him. Men had learned to follow him, at times even challenge him, but none had ever gotten far. Razer was a man of not only strength now, but also a mind that no other brainless goon could ever comprehend. It was no wonder others were drawn to him.

He had taught himself to be cold underneath his slick smile. He had long hid away his broken desires and love for his sister Rosetta. He had given up all hopes of sitting in another Havoc again until a mysterious letter came to him one day.

"It's for you," his lead henchman grunted as he handed Razer the letter. The envelope was long and stamped in an embroidered wet mark he did not recognize. All it said on the addressee was 'Mizo'.

Razer shrugged and sat on the futon to open it. The letter was in script and long. It held one photo that made his jaw drop and an old passion ignite.

It was a Havoc V10, the newest edition.

The letter was an introduction letter. Mizo was a headman in the World of Combat Racing, in a country where it was being legalized. He needed the best drivers that hands could get a hold of, no matter where they were from and he had somehow heard of Razer's reputation.

News of Razer's rampage across his state as he escaped with Lord Burgra in his passenger seat apparently reached farther than he had known, as well as the details of the fame he had gained while racing in the illegal track. His crimes were also made known to others, but apparently his history had only proved more convenient in this Mizo's eyes. Mizo ranted on about how he needed a man of his caliber to bring combat racing to its highest pedestal.

He offered him a life of luxury, a life of fame and most of all, a chance to get his hands on a Havoc again and feel the wind.

The only catch was, he'd have to escape prison on his own and Mizo would meet him on the other side. Razer had thought long and hard on the proposition, but as he looked around the aging walls surrounding him, he figured a change of scenery might be a good thing.

He didn't have family. He didn't have friends, but if he could at least have racing, that would be all he would ever need.

A few nights later, his henchmen helped him form a plan. A few nights later he could escape prison a new man. The next time he'd see daylight, he'd wake up inside a garage hidden in the underground and wearing a new trench coat.

That was how Razer, the famed racing champion who mercilessly killed and ignited fires across endless roads for more than a decade after, was born.

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"Damn it!" Razer cursed under his breath. He grabbed the handkerchief in his pocket to wipe the small spot on his collar in which he had just spilled some beer.

"New coat, I presume?" The bartender asked as he eyed Razer cleaning his expensive red and blue trench coat.

'Amateurs', Razer thought. It wasn't new at all actually. He just took rather good care of it.

Not feeling like explaining, he just nodded with a grunt and drank the last of the golden liquid in his mug. His lip curled slightly as the cold liquid burned its way down his throat. He had more of a taste for wine than beer, but after the sleepless nights and haunting memories lately, he needed whatever he could get during the races.

Just as he was about to turn the stool and head back to the tracks, the very woman he was trying to avoid walked in through the entrance. Razer spun back on his seat with a roll of his eyes.

With a sigh, he gestured that the bartender give him another mug full of this foul tasting beer. The damp spot on his collar beckoned that he take the coat to the dry cleaners as fast as possible, but at the moment a certain woman was blocking his exit.

Rayn sat at the other end of the bar, trying to take little notice of the man sitting nearby. She was alone and since she had discovered Jak's involvement in her father's death, she had rarely been seen with the team since. With a sigh, she ordered a shot of something quick and strong.

Razer wondered to himself if she had went to that meeting yet. Had it gone well? Had his advice worked? Perhaps it failed and that was the cause of her long face now sitting not to far from him.

Lost in his thoughts, he felt another drop hit his collar and he grew infuriated. "Damn it!" He growled even louder, it was the second drop now soaking into his precious coat. Slamming the mug on the counter, Razer decided any more hesitation would lead his coat to be destroyed. He needed to get it dry-cleaned now.

Slamming a bill on the counter, he spun off the stool and began to head out with his hands stuffed into his pockets. Rayn came into view as he neared her, while heading towards the exit. Just as he passed her, a slim arm blocked his passage.

"Put this on. It'll keep it from staining until you get it washed," Rayn advised with a solemn expression. Her open palm revealed a stick of what seemed to be some sort of washing detergent.

Razer stared at her palm for a moment, not sure if he should regard it thankfully or with disgust. He felt a wet spot begin to soak through his coat and onto his shirt, and all pride disintegrated.

He snatched the stick from her hand and eagerly brushed by people to escape the bar. As Rayn watched the man fly from the Bloody Hook, underneath her shot glass, formed a knowing smile.

_A murderer who tends to his coat in the dry cleaners. How ironic…_

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**This was long and a bit rushed but I hope it's ok. I put this scene at the end of this depressing chap to provide some comic relief. Hope you liked.**


	11. Chapter 11 : Luxury and Lonliness

**Happy B-day to my Beta reader, Luv2Game.**

**--------------------------------------------**

**Chapter 11**

Rayn left the Bloody Hook with a grin. Almost bouncing on her heels to her vehicle, you could never tell that her big meeting was the next day. Her position as Crime Lord and all her endeavors in racing would be determined in this one meeting. This was her last chance to make an impression. This was her last chance to prove herself worthy of taking over Kras and eventually, the rest of the underground crime.

As anxious as she was about the next day, and coming face to face with that _Lucien_, she had to remain confident, at least on the outside. Sure, she was nervous. Sure, she knew that all of the Kras Dynasty was at stake. But after a week and a half of observing the races and Jak's success, she really knew that this was what she wanted.

It was no longer about taking over for her father. She wanted this power for herself. This was her fate and no matter what obstacle came her way, whether it is Lucien, Jak's involvement in her father's murder, or a certain dark haired racer, she would grasp her fate with both hands and only death could make her let go.

The meeting was tomorrow and it was the last meeting before the final race. If all went well, she could go into the final race with confidence that upon winning the Championship Trophy, her ownership of Kras would be won as well. The antidotes were ready, but with all the power in the world, there was still one thing she needed to complete her faultless success. Rather, one man, the most relentless driver in all of Combat Racing.

She was sure that after Mizo's demise, if all went according to plan and Jak's final win in the last race, Jak's team would find no reason to continue racing for her. In order to assure her spot as Crime Lord and number one in the fatal sport, she needed a star and one that had no problem enduring the life of crime. Although Jak had his dark sides, he was still considered too much of a 'hero' and would therefore never agree to work under her as Crime Lord, heed the title itself – Crime Lord.

Jak was no criminal, unless it was necessary to 'save the world'. Only one man was fit for the job and currently she had a hard time getting that one man to eat out of her palm. She was sure that the proposal she offered to him was fool proof, but upon his rash response, such as throwing her out of his home and slamming the door, it seemed that he wasn't too thrilled about the conditions.

Rayn considered herself a remotely good-looking woman, and she would be gushing with wealth and power after the races, so why he would turn down such a golden opportunity? It bewildered her. She also viewed herself as a smart woman, and why she would not be grateful that he – accused rapist and murderer – had turned down the offer to bind their marriage to secure his wealth and position as race car driver? It also troubled her. After reading over his file, she should've listened to the fear creeping up her neck and promised herself to never make contact with such a man again.

However, some pieces just did not fit. Sure, he was a killer. She knew that. You couldn't participate in the sport without the potential possibility of killing another human being in a competing vehicle. But upon reading the gruesome graphic nature of the murders he committed in the past, and seeing the man who had run out of the bar earlier to tend to the stain on his beloved coat, she couldn't help but be suspicious.

The man's home was photo perfect and spotless. He could prepare cuisines that would rival those served in the main Kras mansion itself. The books on his shelves were worn from use. She had to wonder what would drive such a man to submit to blood thirst. She had to wonder how such sinful hands felt so welcoming in her hair. She_ could not help _but wonder and that was that.

So much mystery lay behind that smug smile of his and the fidgeting knife in his pocket and she knew none of it. If only she could find a key point, a soft spot to press that would unravel such stories of the past unbeknownst to her, that would grant her the opportunity to gain his trust and therefore create a chance to come to some sort of an agreement in which they would both benefit.

The drive home was quickened by her consuming thoughts. She hadn't even noticed her guards gesturing that she have a pleasant night as she walked in. She was too occupied with the biggest mystery, still unsolved.

The true identity of Mizo. She knew she was close. Her spies came day in and day out, relaying as much information as they could until something useful had finally come in.

Throughout all the history and records of the sport, the only similar crime related to Jak's sabotaged vehicle was the death of News Reporter G.T. Blitz's father. Over a decade ago, when the sport first ran, Blitz's father manifested the tracks, inspiring all amateur racers that would follow. Not a day would pass that his tires did not leave the roads with its graceful marks. There were no particular enemies of his that stood out; after all, in this sport it was natural to gain enemies. Then his mysterious death occurred - his vehicle was wired with explosives just as Jak's vehicle was during a recent race.

Unlike Jak's vehicle though, in which the wires were connected wrongfully, causing the weapons to jam instead of the explosives to go off, Blitz's father was not blessed with such luck. Whether the wires were purposely or accidentally set wrong were still unknown, but it seemed that maybe the perpetrator had only meant to send Jak's team a warning. Either way, such a desperate and sneaky attempt had not surfaced since the death of Blitz Senior, so she had reason to believe that the man who threatened Jak, since their current enemy was Mizo, and the man who killed Blitz Senior were somehow connected.

If the man was sent by Mizo to threaten Jak, she was sure such a mindless hoodlum would've sufficed to other, more imprudent ways of going about it. Maybe knives to the throat or a simple private chase down the city streets off tracks. However, to surrender to something as low and fraught as wiring Jak's car, it would have been carried out by none other than Mizo himself. He had already laid out his best cards on the table, and all his best drivers and previous attempts to kill the Eco channeling elf had failed. The explosives were most likely Mizo's trump card, saved for his most desperate moment since he now doubted his ability to dominate the races.

To wire Jak's car unnoticed and in what appeared to be a rush, the man that called himself Mizo had to be amongst them, trying not to get caught. Somewhere lost in the faces they saw on a daily basis, in the crowds and in the garages, one of them was the face they were looking for. Except they _still_ had no idea who it was. And the Mizo that wired Jak's car had to have been the same mystery man that wired Blitz Senior's vehicle so similarly. They just needed to fill in the blanks.

The only way to find out more info on Blitz Senior's death, how and why Mizo would possibly be involved and who Mizo really is, Rayn had to meet with none other than G.T. Blitz himself. He was the source of all gossip and had been hosting the sport for years before her time. Although Jak's attempt to squeeze anything out from him was unsuccessful, she was sure she could get something from the blond. She found his resistance to speak with Jak to be apprehensive, therefore earning her to question why he would react in such a way.

She had to know _something_ by the time the meeting came and that was why she arranged for an interview with G.T. Blitz the following morning. It was risky and she would possibly be in the middle of Mizo's danger zone, but she'd do it to find out who Mizo really was. Blitz had no idea of her plan to draw out answers on his father's death and Mizo's identity. She had agreed to speak with him and give her final thoughts about the upcoming and most important race, and considering G.T.'s habit for getting all the juice and spotlight, she knew he wouldn't pass up the interview.

Hopefully she'd get a step closer to Mizo's identity, leaving her a bit of leverage to her position as Crime Lord and some confidence to walk into that meeting tomorrow afternoon.

That was why she sprung around her bedroom with a grin. She welcomed herself into her bed sheets with a content sigh and she closed her eyes with promises of pleasurable dreams.

Somehow, in some way, she'd get everything she wanted and she would stop at nothing until she had all she desired. As for luring the trench-coat wearing racer to serve under her rule… Well, she'd take care of that later.

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"Would you like for us to escort you inside, Ms. Krew?"

"No, that won't be necessary. Feel free to carry on back home. You are no longer needed," Rayn advised the two large men who accompanied her to Blitz's studio.

They nodded at her command, fists folded against their fronts. "As you wish, Ms. Krew".

She watched as the men stepped into their black vehicle and drove away. She had felt confident on sending them home. If there were any deadly risks, Mizo wouldn't be stupid enough to try them today. It was too obvious, being that she was on this interview with G.T. and having a meeting later on.

If he was connected to G.T., which she was practically positive that he was, any attempts to harm her on the same day she was meeting him would not be wise. And as much as she had her differences about the Eco hero Jak, at least she would know that if something _did_ happen, the team would not just let it be. Not only because Jak felt partly responsible for killing any 'innocent girl's' father, but because only she could grant permission for the antidotes to be handed over after the final race was won.

The building in front of her appeared as any other normal, urban building. Dark bricks layered to create the four-floor studio, glass doors greeting the front. Perfect, square shrubs aligned around the building, meeting at the concrete path at the main entrance. Hovering above the main entrance doors was a large picture of G.T. Blitz next to the name of the network. She could see through the glass windows the way some of the personnel scurried about the main floor. It must've been in preparation for the upcoming show in which she was invited to.

Nothing was suspicious about the building, but Rayn wouldn't let that fool her.

Upon walking through the main entrance, she was instantly bombarded by floating cameras and two staff members wearing earpieces. Wiry looking, one man and one woman, the pair was wearing over grown glasses and had notepads in their hands.

"Hello there, and good afternoon? Are you Ms. Krew?" asked the man.

She tried to swat one of the cameras hovering in front of her face. "Uh, yes, I am. I have an appointment to meet with G.T. Blitz".

Both of them led her toward the large front desk, where receptionists gave her a mil-second smile before returning to the phones ringing off the hook. The wiry woman shoved a clipboard into her chest and Rayn almost fell back on impact.

"What in the-"

"You have to sign in here, Ms. Krew, and we need to see your ID. We will phone Mr. Blitz right away and inform him of your arrival," the woman nodded without taking notice of Rayn's irritation to her. She snapped her fingers at one of the receptionists and they nodded in response.

Not even seconds later, the clipboard was snatched from her grasp before her pen finished writing the last letter, and she was shoved into an elevator with the man accompanying the woman who Rayn had decided she didn't like.

The bell rang to announce the second floor and as the steel doors opened, Rayn's eyes widened.

"Step this way please, Ms. Krew. Mr. Blitz will be pleased that you are here," he led her into the large floor. People were scurrying about with cameras, makeup artists rushed to prepare the guests, the sets were being constructed and perfectly aligned, the lights were being flicked on and off for testing. It was obvious that G.T. Blitz was a perfectionist when it came to going on live and interviewing an exclusive.

She hadn't noticed the man walk away and G.T. Blitz walking toward her. A trail of cameras followed, just as they always did. He flashed her a wide, pearly grin before extending his hand.

"Rayn, dear, so glad that you could make it. Welcome to my humble abode," he took a moment to wink at the camera before facing her again. "Please, take a seat on the set and we'll get started".

She was directed to a seat on the main set. The background once again had G.T.'s haughty image blown up too large for her own taste and flashy letters. She tried not to show the disgust she had for this guy's ego. She sat on a blue fold out chair that already had her name on it and an identical chair stood across with Blitz's name.

Rayn thought she finally had the time to breath until a two makeup artists attacked her cheeks with blush brushes and she had to shoo them away. "Would you please!" Rayn scolded the two women who dipped their heads apologetically before leaving her.

She regretted her choice of wardrobe because she had settled on a skirt as an alternative to her usual dressy slacks. The slacks would've aided her fast escape from the studio once this was all over. Not because she would run from danger, but from the commotion in the studio. It was overwhelming.

A countdown began and Blitz ran to the set. Sitting comfortably on the seat and giving a cue to his staff, by the time the countdown was finished, the whole floor grew quiet. It was eerie how every person silenced on G.T.'s very command.

Seeing the astonishment on Rayn's face, he winked at her, "It's cause I'm the star. Alright, roll the cameras".

Finally it had begun.

"Hello, race fanatics, we're coming to you live with an exclusive interview, set up by yours truly," another wink and smile. "Right here, in this very studio is the woman who has caused the biggest talk in all of racing history. That's right folks, the leader of the team opposing Mizo's Dream Team, it is Rayn Krew herself. So, Ms. Krew, how are you feeling?"

Rayn blinked for the first time since she arrived, "W-well I'm doing rather fine. Thank you, Bli-".

"Okay, now – tell me Ms. Krew, what's it like to stare death right in the face? Not feel safe in your own car and know your whole reputation is on the line?"

She could not _stand_ that voice of his and that _smile_ – ugh! "I actually feel very safe in my car, thank you very much. After all, I am a racer myself. As for my reputation on the line, I am hardly worried, seeing that my team will pass the finish line in the upcoming race".

"Ha ha ha, I'm _sure_ it will. If _you_ say so, anyway – ah, this just in!" An arm stretched into the set to hand him a clipboard in which he barely glanced at. "Seems I have some rather interesting juice on you Ms. Krew. Now tell me, are the rumors swarming about like wild fire true?"

"Rumors? I have no idea what you're talking about," Rayn stated matter in factly. She was beginning to get frustrated at the fact that he wasn't giving her a chance to pry him for information.

Blitz nudged Rayn roughly, sending her to grab the sides of her seat to prevent her from falling. "Living proof, ladies and gentlemen, women are master liars. Now Rayn, I think you and I know very well what I'm talking about here. Sources say you blackmailed your team into racing for you, need I say more?" His brows wiggled at her and she was almost rendered speechless.

"B-blackmail? Why that's nonsense! No such thing happened!" Rayn protested, heat rushing to her cheeks.

Blitz only ignored her and continued. "So, tell me, Ms. Krew, how does it feel to know that you can't even trust your own team? I mean, they must hate your stinkin' guts. I'd like to know how you expect to win when your own drivers don't even like you, and hell, you don't even like your own drivers! After all, you remember Jak, takin' out your old man, ey? I'm sure it doesn't run by you too well on the friendship meter and after that sabotage on his vehicle, who knows what can happen next!"

The man doesn't stop moving his lips to breath, only to blind her with his smile. Rayn finally had enough. She exhaled a loud sigh and Blitz eyed her with warning for possibly ruining his image on live TV.

"Speaking on the sabotage, Blitz, I have some juice of my own. I'm sure the best host of Combat Racing would love to be the first to spill it out to the public".

Blitz thought for a quick moment before nervously grinning at the cameras and nodding. "Of course, that's why I'm Blitz. All the juice, all the gossip, all the news, comes to me first! Now spill the beans!"

"Well, rumors say that the explosives wired on Jak's vehicle were the same ones that were used on a _certain_ racer's car years ago. _Sources_ say, that the two incidents were related and that the same man who killed this racer is the Mizo out to get my star racer Jak," Rayn let the words slide from her mouth smoothly. As her smile widened, Blitz's smile shortened.

Blitz gave another nervous laugh, "Really now, ya don't say? Well, sucks for that poor racer and tough noogies for Jak, but who knows-". It was obvious that Blitz was trying to shrug Rayn's comments off and go for a change of subject. She wouldn't let that happen.

"Now, what I find most interesting, is that not only do the two incidents involve the same explosives, but the racer who was killed by the explosives were none other than-"

"Okay! We're short on time. We'll continue this _thrilling_ conversation after this commercial break, folks," Blitz gestured the chopping signal at his neck and the cameras shut off. He gave a smile to his staff before leaning closer to Rayn, hiding his stern expression.

"Listen here, I don't know what you came here for but what the hell are you trying to pull?"

Rayn brought her fingertips to her lips roguishly. "Nothing at all, Blitz. I thought this was what you do. You wanted the beans, didn't you?"

Blitz growled at her and Rayn gave him a satisfied grin. She lowered her head to whisper and cover her expression as well. "Alright you listen up, rumor has it that your father was killed by the same explosives that were wired on _my_ racer's car. That means that the same man that killed your father is most likely Mizo himself and from what I hear, you're not very reluctant on finding your father's killer".

"What are you implying lady?"

"I'm implying that you probably know who this Mizo is and that you are on his side. If you are, then this race is fixed and how do I know he's not right here in this studio! Now tell me, where is he? Who is he?"

Blitz sat back and released a trail of arrogant laughter. "Now if you think I'm gonna give that up, you must think I'm suicidal".

"I _do_ know that if you don't tell me, I will find out myself and I'm sure your co-host would _love_ to hear the beans before you".

A finger came rushing up to her face, "Listen, you can forget that little bird brain and as for my father and Mizo, I think it would be in your best interest to mind yours and keep your-" Upon seeing the staff members beginning to catch the conflict between the two with wide eyes, Blitz scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Nothing to see here, just discussing our next set of questions," he assured them with a wave.

"Hmm," Rayn sat up and straightened her skirt. "Enjoy the rest of your show, I'll be taking my leave. It has been entertaining," she could almost feel the burn of his glare as she stepped off the set.

"Oh, and be sure to tell Mizo not to try and attempt any funny tricks again. Anything funny happens, I spill the beans," this time she winked at him and walked back to the elevator.

"See you at the final race, Blitz. It's been a pleasure". Those were the last conniving, sweet words she mocked him with before the steel doors closed.

As the elevator went down, she crossed her arms over her chest with confidence. It didn't take much to make the hair sprayed host break. After exchanging such little information, she already knew who Mizo was. She just needed a little more confirmation and she knew just the person to do so.

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A very pleased and catty grin grew on Rayn's face as she watched the seven men sitting at the round table, watching the recording of Blitz's show shot earlier in the day. With chins propped on their knuckles and nods of approval, they observed the bit of scene recorded live between Rayn and the host G.T. Blitz.

As for the bit of conversation they had off the camera, she would keep that to herself. All they needed to know was that she was close and therefore had an advantage that they did not. The large TV screen went black and they all turned their attention to the only woman in the room. Actually, some were finding it difficult to keep their attention elsewhere, since she had decided to show up with her long waves of gray-ish hair falling gracefully down her spine. Her bangs seductively covered her eye and one of her blouse buttons just happened to be open.

Lucien cleared his throat loudly with a twitch of his mustache before speaking up. "Is this supposed to convince us of anything, Ms. Krew?"

To his surprise, Rayn's smile widened. It almost struck fear into his heart. Last time they had met, this woman was meek; weak hearted and struggled for her words. Now she walked in glowing with confidence, long legs bearing through high slits in her skirt and a fire in her eyes.

"It's not supposed to convince you at all, actually. Let's just call it my way of saying that I have Mizo right in the palm of my hand," she expressed with her palm held out, slowing clenching as her words came to an end.

Another man spoke, "Right in the palm of your hand you say? Might I ask, who is this Mizo then?"

A swift movement brought her fingers curling at the elderly man's chin as she replied deviously, "That – my friend, is my secret and mine alone. I would be a fool to tell all of you. Rest assured that he will be disposed of".

Lucien's cheeks began to flush. She wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment, anger, or both. The very woman who he was trying to rip down from power during the last meeting was now snaking her way between them all to get to the top. It was too much for him to handle.

He sent a stiff palm on the table before he stood up rebelliously. "This is ridiculous! Whether you know the identity of Mizo or not, that still does not prove that you are capable of taking over after him and ensuring that the underground can continue it's crime sprees unnoticed!"

Rayn shot him a daring glare. Lucien's firm expression did not flinch. She released the man in her grasp with a smile before slowly making her way to Lucien.

_What do men want? Power. Money. Danger. And Sex._

"Lucien – Lucien, Lucien, Lucien," her finger wagged at him as little by little, her body inched toward him.

_What do I want? Kras and all it has to offer._

"It's seems you lack trust in me," she purred as her body finally made its way next to his. She could already feel a heat burning between them.

_If you want something bad enough, go and get it. Know your consequences but don't fear risks._

In moments, he had found himself suffocated in this snake's deceit. Every doubt he had for this woman instantly vanished the moment a bare leg rubbed against him and sent unwanted hormones afloat. He cleared his throat once again, pulling the collar of his shirt for some air.

"You should know better, Rayn, there is no trust in this business. We just stick together for a common goal".

Rayn released a feminine laugh, "Ahh, so now it's first name basis. It seems that there's more familiarity in you than you believe". She punctuated this fact with a light tap on his nose and his eyes widened with shock.

Rayn's ego was skyrocketing. She had never felt so powerful, so in control. It was amazing that the little things she had picked up from her time with Razer had actually paid off.

Just as she thought she had Lucien under her hypnotism, he grabbed her wandering wrist nearby his jaw. He pulled her close with a slick smile to her face. "You know, two can play this game, Ms. Krew. You are not the only one with power and a way with words in this room," he reminded her with a whisper between them. It was a battle between the two biggest influences among the gang lords, not including Mizo.

Rayn's brows furrowed, her expression now serious. "Well there is one difference, _Lucien_. I have the wealth that you currently lack and not only that, but I know who Mizo is".

She felt his fingers tightly nudge between the bones of where her palm and her wrist met. "Wealth isn't everything, Ms. Krew…" It was then that she felt a sting of cold metal, warning her through the thin hem of her shirt where the others could not see.

"Why Lucien, is this a threat?" She arched a brow at him in challenge. Although her eyes flared with determination, her insides wretched with the possible fear that he would kill her here and now. None of the others would care or attempt to stop him from stabbing her. After all, he was second in power after her and every being in the room in reality were enemies. She prayed that he couldn't feel the sweat beginning to tickle down the back of her neck.

"Not at all. It's more like a promise. The word threat – is such a harsh word," Lucien retaliated. He wasn't going to let himself fall for that sexual finesse of hers so easily. Although to her advantage, it did manage to stir some undesired arousal on his part, but he had to focus on his goal. She had wealth and she had words but did she have guts? Could she last in such a dangerous world, a world only made for men?

It was almost as if the thoughts passing through his mind were read by her eyes. She answered with a rigid, solid piece of steel, sticking to the side of his abdomen. She too, came prepared.

"You shouldn't make promises that you can't keep. Did I ever tell you that one of my father's favored trades were that of weapons? I may not look much like him, thankfully, but I did happen to inherit his lust for guns. They are useful, wouldn't you say?"

Lucien's head lowered in defeat. She could swear she saw a grin form as if he was impressed. "Useful, they are and might I add, much faster than a blade to the side". She slowly felt his weapon pull away from her body and she kept her eyes on his until she was sure his weapon was safely put away. Once she was sure, she replaced the safety and slid the small pistol back into the waist of her skirt.

"You are a very conniving woman, you know. I'll make sure you don't last in this business," he gave her one last warning before releasing his grip on her wrist and sitting back in his chair.

Rayn paid no heed to his threat. She smiled back at the other men with her hands on her hips. "We're running out of time, I'm afraid. The final race is a little more than a week away. I think we can all agree that my team will be winning that upcoming race and you can rest your concerns for the underground crime with me. In the hands of the Krew crime family, you can expect nothing but success".

An elderly man spoke up, "And what if, for some reason, you cannot fulfill these promises and your team does not make the final race? What if you cannot dispose of Mizo as you say? What will you do for us then, Ms. Krew?"

"Trust me. Jak will win and Mizo will come out of hiding now that I have him where I want him. If such thing happens, feel free to take over as you please to secure what's worth most to you," Rayn said these things in assurance that her plans would not fail. They couldn't. Not with Jak racing as her star driver. Not now that she knew who Mizo was and even if she wasn't entirely sure, there was one person she could pry for information. That person, as well, could possibly be working under her rule if she dealt her cards right, and if she could do that, then they'd be no stopping her.

"It's getting dark. We shall meet again after the race to determine our final steps. We pray that you are successful, Ms. Krew, for your sake…"

With that and some last lingering glares at the woman, they all stood up and began to head out of the warehouse room, one by one. Each heading to his destination discreetly until once again, she was left alone with the round table. She did so often to gather the last pieces of her thoughts and to be sure no one would follow her out if she left before them.

Even though she did have a pistol tucked in her skirt, she wasn't very fond of the idea of actually using the thing. She was never much of a hands-on kind of girl. Blood and gore, she'd rather leave to someone under her command. Now that Lucien had a much stronger grudge against her, since she was closer to obtaining her goal, she had to be extra careful. Who knows what a man like him would do to make sure she didn't take over Kras.

She sat in a chair for a moment to breath. Of course it hadn't shown, but the entire time she was a nervous wreck. It wasn't exactly sugar and crumpets to flaunt around the room and tickle her fingers on perverted old men. There was no guarantee that her act would work. Then there was a possibility that her act might've worked too well, well enough to cause some unnecessary groping of some sort or worse.

She could have angered them, she could have aroused them, and there were so many things that could've gone wrong. Thankfully, she kept her cool and despite the fact that she had a knife pulled on her, it went fairly well.

With a sigh, she lifted up her arms to pin her hair loosely around her face. She had remembered why she had rarely left it down. It was long and annoying, clinging to her back and into her eyes at times. What a woman has to do to feign vanity…

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Her teethe chattered at the gust of wind that aimed straight for her face. It was a cold night and being by the ocean didn't make the weather any kinder. She took a second to observe her surroundings once more as a precaution. She walked briskly to her vehicle, hidden by the side of the warehouse in the shrubs.

Before stepping into it, she got on her knees to look under the car for anything strange of suspicious. It was a habit she was developing after Jak's car was wired. Couldn't be too careful these days. She made one last look in the trunk and once she was satisfied, she closed it and dusted her hands. That was when she noticed the small note left on her windshield.

Her first thought was, 'A ticket? Out here?' but she knew that wasn't possible. Still, the thought was amusing so she smirked. Snatching the note from the glass and bringing it to her view, she realized the handwriting was familiar.

Short and simple as always. All it said was 'Here'. There was no 'Thank You' or 'Oh, this works really well', just 'Here'. Rayn rolled her eyes before looking at her windshield wiper, noticing the taped item wrapped around it.

"You're very welcome," she said sarcastically as she pulled the stick of detergent off the wiper and slipped it into her pocket.

As her engine rumbled and she pulled out of the grass, she shook her head.

_Don't worry, Razer; you're just the person I need to see. And I will get a 'Thank You' out of you, too._

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Razer looked up from his cup of coffee as an undesired presence rushed through his front door with a slam. He shook his head with a half-hearted smile.

"Hmm, I really _should_ get rid of that spare key," Razer thought aloud with a tilt of his head.

Rayn ignored him. "Where is he? I know who he is, now tell me!" She threw her jacket to his sofa before slamming her fist into his kitchen counter.

"Sure, my dearest, feel free to make yourself comfortable," he eyed her fist for a moment before returning his attention back to his evening drink.

Rayn's lip curled. She knew he was only trying to piss her off. Maybe they hadn't been on good terms since the last time she shoved marriage papers into his face but for now, they had to be put aside.

"Don't toy with me, Razer. Tell me where Mizo is this instant," she sent her furious gaze to stab into him and it had no effect. He calmly set his mug on the counter and crossed his arms.

"So you solved the big mystery, have you? Found out who the great and notorious Mizo really is?" His hands gestured into the air just like the time he mocked Jak and his reputation. Now he was mocking her. He didn't think she was serious.

Rayn took a deep breath, resisting the temptation to grab his white button down shirt into her hands and yank his neck. "I know who Mizo really is, I just need a little more confirmation, now would you plea-".

"How do you know he is who you think he is? Do you have any solid proof? How do you know he's not in this very house, sniping from my roof?" With every question he laid out to her, he grinned wider. Rayn was fuming.

With the silence that followed, her fingers began to twitch. "You really don't care if you lose everything, do you?"

Razer shrugged, "Hmm, hmm, maybe not".

"You're heartless!"

"That may be so".

"I should've expected that kind of response from a rapist and someone who killed his own-" Her hands made an attempt to cut off the rest of that sentence but it was too late. She had already said it and he had already heard.

Before she even knew what happened, she was face to face with Razer, his killer intent breathing onto her cheeks. "Maybe I've been a bit too lenient with you but don't you forget whose home you're in. Don't you forget who I am and what I'm capable of!"

Another long silence followed and neither of them budged. After all the confidence she bubbled with all day, it immediately came to a low, dying simmer among the presence of the man before her. She was trembling, wondering why in the hell she would let herself say something like that. Why would she provoke him knowing who he was and what his reputation entailed?

It was true. She had become too cocky, failing to realize that this man was still her enemy and could kill her at will. She had let her words slip and now she found herself in a slightly dangerous situation.

Razer let his gaze run over her form, now shrinking in his presence. He gave it his all not to crack a smirk that still, she was so weak when caught in certain corners.

"So that's what you really think? I'm a rapist and a murderer who would go as far as killing his own sister. I'm surprised, Rayn, that your judgment of people is so easily swayed before you get all the facts. Makes me think everything you've learned up 'til now was a waste".

Rayn was stumped. She had no idea what to say. He couldn't be saying he wasn't a murderer because he was, in more ways than one. But as far as killing his own sister, she hadn't really applied much thought to it after going over his file.

As for being a rapist, that was a whole other topic in itself. As much as she hated to admit it, Razer was a reasonably attractive man, and with his charm she found it a bit hard to believe he would go through such means to satisfy his lust. He didn't seem to be the kind of man who indulged much on bodily pleasures. Only pleasure he had, as far as she knew, was his racing.

Rayn lowered her head in shame, turning away from his disapproving glare. "I'm sorry, you're right. I jump to conclusions before gathering all the information I need".

Razer did not respond. He hadn't count on her apologizing. If anything, he expected she'd high tail it out of there as fast as she could before he withdrew a weapon. He turned away from her and grabbed his coffee mug. She watched as he walked to the living room to stand by the glass doors that led outside, his back facing her.

She wasn't sure what to do next. She fumbled with her fingers nervously as she watched the man standing by the sliding doors in deep thought. She wondered if she should leave or continue to pursue her goals.

She didn't know Mizo's whereabouts, but that was something she could find out elsewhere. She was sure he was already feeling desperate and that he would be forced to come out eventually. However, there was another goal she had in mind. Razer's trust.

She needed him to side with her – more than anything. He was too much of a valuable asset to let go and if he decided not to side with her, there was a chance that he would have to be disposed of since he might cause trouble for the Krew Crime Family in the future. There was so much that she didn't know about this man and something continued to peck at her interest. She couldn't help but come back to meet him, just to draw more out of his mysterious essence. She couldn't explain it. She just couldn't stop herself from learning more.

Rayn carefully made her way towards the retired racer, sitting on the sofa and observing his broad frame standing a few feet away. She whispered, "I'd like to know – what really happened". He seemed like he was about to refuse until she spoke again, more eagerly, "In exchange, I won't ask you about Mizo anymore and I'll leave afterwards".

Razer hesitated. His thumb massaged the rim of his empty mug. He wasn't sure why she wanted to know, and he wasn't even sure why he was even considering confessing to her such a secretive past. She couldn't possibly understand, being that she grew up with the life that he never had. Luxury, great food and clothes on her back. Why would he even bother? Yet, something tugged at him, beckoned to release the weight he had held onto for all these years.

Razer sighed and Rayn thought he was going to stand there quietly for the rest of the evening until she retreated. Just as she was about to lift herself up from the sofa and try not to push her luck any further, she heard a low whisper.

"Alright – but I doubt it'll be a fairy tale to your liking…"

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About two hours had passed. It was late at night and he had finally finished his story. He was right. It was anything but a fairy tale.

He had told her about his country, the kind of life he lived and the childhood dreams he once had. He told her about Rosetta, what she was like, how he admired her in every way. He told her of the job Rosetta had consumed herself to, in order to fulfill his every wish, although against his will. He told her about how he was first introduced to racing and how the web of trickery would soon lead to the dreadful events that would follow. Marcela, Macen's murder, Rosetta's dying body and finally Burgra's murder, all brought upon just by living the miserable life that he was born into.

He had confessed his prison stories, the tale of his first trench coat and the mysterious promising letter he had received from Mizo one day. The scar he had received from getting caught on the barbed wire while he escaped the borders and the life he was then enslaved to afterwards because he had nothing left. He'd do anything to keep the only dream he had left alive – racing, even if it meant working for a scumbag like Mizo.

Razer did not move from the spot by the doors once during the whole thing, nor did he turn to face her. Motionless, he stood holding his mug as he stared through the glass. After he was done, Rayn was lost for words. So much of his story had made her feel such indescribable despair, to the point that she was almost at tears. As his story drew to its climax, where he had lost everyone he had ever loved, everyone he had ever considered a friend, she couldn't help the few tears that escaped her eyes unwillingly.

Now she had never felt so low. She made herself believe that every man branded as a criminal was made into one on their own will, brainless, blood thirsty, and evil. She had never stopped to ponder what if they had hearts of their own? What could make an innocent man into a murderer? She, more than anyone, should've known that nothing is as it seems, especially in a world such as this.

She was also victim to a stereotype. A spoiled princess as some would call it and yet, no one knew the loneliness she suffered or the hardship she went through being the daughter of one of the dirtiest Gang Lords. No one ever knew what it was like to have the world against her, just because she had wealth, although it was all illegal. She never had any real friends, any real boyfriends, no one ever made an effort to know the real her. No one had ever cared and her father had shown his affection through the occasional parcel sent through the mail along with promises of the Dynasty when she was of age.

The room was dead. The night had spread its darkness through the glass. Razer had almost thought she had left until he heard her subtle movements behind him. His body stiffened as the sound of her footsteps neared him.

Rayn didn't know what was possessing her. She didn't know what had given her this idea. Razer was not a man for sympathy, therefore she could not express any. However, she could not just sleep soundless tonight as if she hadn't heard such a story.

Razer's eyes widened when he felt two slim arms slowly encircle him from behind, clasping in the middle of his chest where his heart beat. He did not move, his arm stood in the air holding his mug. He was clearly confused.

He felt her head nuzzle between his shoulder blades and the heat of her body against his back. It was the scariest thing he had ever faced in all these years, feeling the warmth of another. Everything in his body itched to push her away, to yell her out of the house. Yet, he didn't move, he didn't speak.

The last few stray tears were soaked into the material on his back. She tried to hold it in but it was as if his story had also resurfaced the sadness she had been holding in for years as well. Her tears, might've been more for her than him.

"At least – there was one thing you were lucky enough to have that I did not…"

Razer's body relaxed and she continued, "Because of Rosetta – you were able to know what love felt like".

He was a bit surprised. Maybe, he too, was guilty of judging her too quickly without gathering all the factsm but he couldn't bring himself to admit it.

Instead, he set his mug on a nearby shelf and that was when she felt him cross his arms. Although he was silent, she knew he was letting her hold him. That was his way of showing his sympathy for her. Until she was satisfied and until he could no longer stand, he would let her hold onto his back, for their dreadful pasts and for each other.

Now he understood why he had been reminded of Rosetta upon meeting Rayn. Somewhere inside Rayn was a person who yearned for someone she could sacrifice the world for just as his sister had done for him.

In a way, maybe her story was sadder than his.

**----------------------------------------------------**

**Now we have some more Razer and Rayn interaction setting in. Hope it makes up for all those chaps I did on his past without Rayn.**


	12. Chapter 12 : Lesson Three Never Trust

**Sorry for the tardy update. As for the beginning of this chap, I couldn't help myself. As for the ending scene, maybe a bit much, but it was deviously fun writing it.**

**Have devious fun reading it. XD**

**-------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter 12**

"Why the long face?" Keira offered her prized racer a mild smile to console him, although it didn't seem to lift his worries.

Jak answered with a groan and attempted to return her condolence half-heartedly.

Keira sat in the stool beside him. She reached across to pull away Jak's beer mug and just as he was about to protest, she flashed him a motherly warning. He willingly gave in and sunk his head into his arms on the counter. She sighed.

"Listen, Jak, if it's about Rayn's father, you shouldn't beat yourself up over it. Krew was a bad man and whether Rayn knew it or not, her father got what was coming to him. If it wasn't you, it would've been someone else eventually," her hand patted his elbow as she leaned her head into his.

The sweet, floral scent flowing freely from her hair into his nostrils seemed to put him at ease. His shoulders relaxed and he sighed deeply.

"The last race is coming soon," he reminded her and she rolled her bright eyes.

"Don't worry about that, Jak. You're vehicle is up and ready to go. I've also gotten into the habit of checking for anything suspicious before you head out onto the tracks".

He lifted his eyes to her in surprise, "You have? I mean – gee Keira, I'm sure Mizo isn't stupid enough to pull that again since we're so close to finding him now".

She waved her hands and shrugged carelessly. "I know, I know. Just in case, that's all". She flashed him a quick wink and Jak smiled.

Just then, a deep cough rang through the bar. It belonged to Keira. She caught her breath in her cupped hands, grasping her lips. She felt Jak take a firm grip of her shivering shoulders as she struggled to breath. He rubbed his hand up and down her spine in an effort to calm the poison's effects.

"You're body isn't as strong as some of the others', Keira. You should take it easy. Overexerting yourself will only make it sink deeper into you," Jak's long ears had a slight droop to them whenever he worried.

She wheezed and her eyes flared at him, "I'm a racer too, Jak. We're in this together and don't you worry. I _will_ be there for the final race, whether daddy approves or not. I'd rather die fighting".

"Keira – I don't think it's a good idea…" his words faded as he looked into those glossy eyes of hers, glimmering with determination and passion. Her passion for racing, electronics, Precursor technology and for him. As much as he worried for his mechanic, he couldn't stop her from being herself, even to the very end.

"I'll be fine, Jak. I'm a lot stronger than you think," she gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder and he smiled again. She loved to see him smile. It reminded her that there was still some innocence and some light in him, no matter how dark he got sometimes.

Jak leaned in to whisper through the buzz of the conversations around them. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

She nodded and gave his hand a tight squeeze, "Don't worry, Jak. I'm not afraid. I know you'll win that race and I know we'll catch Mizo".

"You're that confident in me, huh?"

"Of course. You're Mar, aren't ya? Heroes don't die so easily".

Jak masked his remaining concern with a lingering glare of appreciation. He didn't want to tell her that it wasn't him that he was worried about. Maybe he wouldn't die so easily, but would she? Would she even make it to the final race? She wasn't a war-ridden, gun-slinging fighter like the rest of them. He was the one afraid, afraid that her body wouldn't hold up to the poison.

"I guess I better live up to that title now, huh?"

"You bet!" She gave him a thumbs up. They laughed together lightly and Jak began to zip up his jacket, signaling his leave.

Realizing he was about to head back to the hotel, Keira took a hold of his wrist before he even had a chance to say goodbye. Jak's brows arched when he saw the look on her face. It was a look that he hadn't seen before. It made him nervous as well as lured him into it.

Jak felt his throat tighten and his jacket begin to suffocate him while he tried to unravel the meaning behind this new look on his childhood friend.

Keira didn't let go despite the slight discomfort. Usually she tried to be subtle, tried to give Jak his space. For some reason, at this moment, she couldn't do just that. This was Kras city, people they didn't know and no one they did know was watching. Why should she have to be so subtle about her feelings for him? Especially if there was a chance that they wouldn't make it.

Keira stood up from her stool to lean into him. Standing stiffly, Jak didn't move an inch. She whispered in an almost teary voice, "Jak, let's go back to the hotel together".

"Oh, don't worry about that, Keira, I was gonna offer to go back togeth-"

"No," she hushed him. Her finger on his lips so suddenly made all kinds of things in his body set off an alarm. Where was this Keira coming from? Why was she being so forward all of a sudden? The look in her eyes answered his every question until his mind could barely muster up another thought.

"I mean, take me with you, Jak. I wanna spend as much time with you as I possibly can before the final race comes, where no one will bother us".

It took everything he had to keep his jaw from hanging wide open. Still, he wasn't completely sure if the ingenuous woman was implying the kind of vibes he was getting off of her. However, he couldn't find it in his heavy heart to turn her down. This was the woman he had known all his life and had hoped would always be there for the rest of it. Time was wasting away and fate might not wait for pretty rings and white veiled weddings. Fate might not wait for the world to be at peace or for bad people to turn good. Either way, he'd give her the time she desired, however way she wanted it.

Her palms met his chest and he cautiously raised his hands to hold hers. He leaned his forehead onto hers, fully capturing the meaning of her request. For what felt like the longest moment in all their lives, they stared at one another until finally, he nodded with understanding.

She responded with the gentle tug of his collar and a kiss to his lips. He obeyed and contently returned the favor. Her fingers lightly caressed his cheek, full of deep devotion for the man. He leaned into her warmth.

"Let's go then," Jak whispered and she nodded. Leading her out of the Bloody Hook, his fingers linked with hers on their way out. No one seemed to notice and they didn't seem to care.

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Rayn sighed heavily at the scene before her. The two were so wrapped up with each other; they were oblivious to her presence. She shook her head as the couple made their way out of the dimly lit bar.

'Strange how such things happen in a place like this', she thought.

She had almost felt bad upon seeing Jak sulking at the bar when she walked in. Since his head was buried either in his mug or in his arms, he hadn't noticed when she walked in. Ever since the race with Shiv, no one bothered her when she walked into the bar. Yet, no one would show her the respect as boss until Mizo was put to an end without a doubt. It was the easiest place to waltz in unnoticed whenever she just wanted to be alone but be around people at the same time.

Maybe, the whole poison thing was a bit harsh, but that was business and she couldn't help it if daddy's plan was genius. She knew well that they wouldn't race for her deceased father willingly and it was too bad that they didn't know she was a part of it all. She had found herself growing a bit attached to them since the races took place. Maybe, she'd even go as far as calling the group her friends.

She couldn't deny that she was feeling slightly guilty, especially after witnessing such a scene between Jak and his mechanic. She knew that Jak wouldn't lose the race, so there were no worries as far as the antidotes went. But she decided to make up for the lie she was putting them through - she'd at least give them the right to know that she was a part of it when the time came.

Love. She had found herself pondering the meaning of that word a little more than usual.

She had also found herself pondering about someone a little more than usual. The thought brought heat to her cheeks and she shook it out of her head.

She remembered how much of a fool she made herself the night before. Crying on a murderer's back like a child. Clinging to him like some lost orphan. Really, she should've been ashamed of herself.

Yet, she found herself growing a tad too fond of his warmth. She made that discovery last night when her tears had dried and their silent embrace lingered. It was only when she heard him clear his throat that her eyes widened and she released him.

She barely mumbled a clear apology before she flew out his door with her jacket in hand.

Ever since, she had made every effort to avoid the man. She found herself fumbling with her fingers like a shaking schoolgirl every time his form passed hers on the tracks. All the power she thrived on the day before instantly evaporated once his solemn eyes met hers. Of course, she'd look the other way and paid no mind to him. She was sure he'd look away wearing that smug grin of his, knowing that he had her in such hysteria.

He was driving her mad. Upon hearing his life's story, not only had she found herself gaining his trust, but she'd begun to trust him as well. Who would so easily tell such a tale? Surely, he had not told anyone about it before. Now, she was the victim of one of his deepest secrets, as well as his victim to other things. After revealing her tear-weakened state to him, she uncovered the spoiled lonely princess without even realizing it. Just her tears alone told him of a past of hers that no one knew.

Then lost in an embrace, that she coaxed him into, they stood there, naked of all secrets and veils. Unmasked and vulnerable. How they had drawn themselves into such a predicament, she could no longer remember.

As much as she tried not to think about it anymore, she couldn't help but wonder. Why had he let her hold him in the first place? Why had he told her such a story? Yes, she wanted his trust, but why did he give it to her? Most of all, what did he think of her now? Surely his impression of her must've been a bad one. Barging into his home uninvited, demanding and prying into business not her own, then crying onto his back and sputtering about a love she never received. It was pitiful even for her to think about it. She'd never felt so low.

With a groan, she finished the last of her drink. Setting it on the counter with a bill, she gave a nod to the bartender and made her leave outside.

To tell the truth, she was envious of Jak and Keira. Right now, somewhere, they were together. Keira was basked in Jak's strong arms and he did so willingly. She tried not to take heed to the relationships on her team, including one of that redheaded Amazon woman with her tattooed commander. Even Jak's orange rat seemed to have a blond little mate rooting for his wins back at Haven. A rat! Or whatever he was…

It really sucked knowing that in less than two weeks, she could be overflowing with wealth and power, but there would always be something missing. The same something that had been missing most of her life.

In less than two weeks, she'd be the most successful, most prevailing and the most lonesome woman in all of Kras city. Frankly, she wasn't looking forward to it as much as she should have.

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**Earlier…**

"Shit!" Razer mumbled under his breath. The sun glaring down onto the hot, hard concrete was unkind and so was his vehicle. The engine was giving him some trouble so he had to make a few last minute adjustments out on the track. He usually wasn't very fond of working on it while other racers spied on the gears inside his unbeatable car, but he had no choice.

He rubbed the wet oil between his fingers with disgust. He hadn't planned on getting so messy before the race. Luckily his coat was draped over his seat, away from dirt's harm.

He cranked the wrench and he couldn't deny that he really did love the feel of the oil on his hands. It brought back memories, although they were bittersweet.

It was rare for him to be out on the tracks without his proper attire, that including his trench coat, so some people raised their eyes in awe as he continued to adjust his engine. Really, what had they thought he wore under there? Perhaps they thought his chest was bare, or that he was hiding some bodily freak of nature?

Was it really so damn surprising to see the man wearing a T-shirt? To say the least, the female passerby's didn't seem to have a problem at all. Instead their eyes stood drawn to the sweat trickling down his biceps, now exposed to the world. It was as if they were also amazed. He really wasn't _that_ old now. Retired didn't mean he was shedding young skin and muscle just yet.

With a satisfied grunt, he cleaned his hands with a nearby towel he had brought along. As the cloth went around each black digit, it was then that he felt it. _Her_ eyes were on him.

He turned subtly, meeting her gaze only momentarily before she frantically looked away. It was hard to contain the smirk on his face.

_Interesting…_

Running his fingers through his dark hair cleaned the remaining oil on his hands. He threw the towel to the concrete and hopped into his vehicle.

It amused him that she had taken the night before so personally. Judging by the way she released him and ran out the door, he guessed he probably wouldn't cross paths with her anytime soon.

Rayn. The woman whom he told his past to and who lured him into an embrace in response.

He hadn't really applied much thought to it since she left. It was a bit frightening at first, to be letting his guard down like that. The moment he felt her arms surround him, his body went tense, itching to lash out on her. Yet, at the same time, he felt himself submit, as his body slowly comforted by her warmth against it. It wasn't really under the traits of a murderer to go hugging up on some woman, especially the enemy, but he couldn't find a better way to explain it besides an act of understanding between the two. That was all he would refer to it as, a moment in which they were both cut from the same string and shared minimal compassion for as long as their tough exteriors would allow.

Before he could dwell on it any longer, he noticed the rambunctious news host, known as G.T. Blitz making his way toward him.

Apparently he had become the next victim of Blitz's next interview, but he knew better. Razer was probably one of the only few men that knew who Blitz really was. Mizo chose to keep it that way and, to be honest, Razer didn't care about his phony disguise.

Sometimes he had even wondered how the hell Mizo had gotten into such power being just a news host during daytime hours. Rumors say the wealth his father attained in the races was left to him after his untimely, 'mysterious' death. Funny how his father didn't know the money he was leaving behind for his poor, neglected son was also the money for who became his reaper.

The look on Blitz's face already sent Razer a message loud and clear. With his phony grin, Blitz shot him a wink before retreating. Razer started his engine, slowly pulling it back into the garages. In a moment, where eyes could not pry, it seemed Mizo wanted a word with him before the next race.

What Mizo would want to discuss, he could hardly imagine. He thought this with an amused grin.

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It was dark in the basement of the garage. Hardly a soul came down here unless to scrap up some spare parts disposed of in its webbed corners. The dust floating in the air made it an unwelcome place. With the race starting soon, no one would come to interrupt this private meeting between the esteemed driver and the man who held his luxurious life in his hands.

"Did you hear my latest news report?" Mizo asked, eyes to the floor and cigar to his mouth.

"Hmm, I have. So you're entering the final races?"

Mizo nodded, "Sometimes, if I want to achieve a goal, I'll have to obtain it myself. Some people under my command aren't as _dependable_ as I'd like them to be".

Razer flashed him a slick smile, "Why, Mizo, whatever do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing much. First man I sent out to dispose of Rayn barely made it out of his vehicle alive".

Razer shrugged as he opened a fresh box of cigarettes. "So?"

"The man's car was a fiery abyss in an area in which he claimed that he raced alone just for fun. Funny, how a racer could lose control over his own vehicle, without anyone else there".

"Yes. It is very funny. Sounds like that man can't drive as well as he thought he could".

He could almost hear Mizo's fists tighten, knuckles crack in frustration. Nothing gave Razer more joy than to toy with him.

"Lucky for him, he's well enough to race now but I'm sure he won't be up to the task. So the next man I sent, the one I sought to be more dependable and merciless still has not shown me results. Why is that?"

"The woman's our enemy. She's always around her team and her little Eco hero. It's very hard to get a clean grasp of her without being noticed".

Mizo arched a perceptive brow. "Ah, but I thought – you were _close_ to her".

Razer grinned again. "It's rather difficult to dispose of a woman when she's on her back and doing such a wondrous job on me. Kind of makes me want to keep her sometimes. Really – she is quite talented".

Rayn would kill him if she heard this, he thought. Wait. Was he _trying_ to save her?

Mizo nodded, "Really now? Well, you enjoy those wonders of hers because I'll assure you; you won't be able to keep her for long. If you're not up to it, then I'll also have to take care of that. Of course, you wouldn't be one to object, since she's nothing more to you then another sex toy".

"Of course. Just don't' spatter her blood on my front door," he shrugged again, carelessly.

They eyed each other before a moment of silence passed. Mizo judged Razer's carefree posture, leaning against a wall, arms crossed and smoking his usual fix. Razer was a tricky and clever man, but he surely wasn't capable of having feelings for the woman. He was a cold-blooded murderer, a blood lusting racer, and an alleged rapist. He was far too intelligent and risking his life of luxury by betraying Mizo would not be a smart move.

Then again, Razer was full of surprises and with his snake-like charm; Mizo decided he'd have to keep an extra eye open just in case.

The roaring crowd signaled the primary preparations for the next race. With a quick nod, Mizo left the room and headed up the stairwell, getting back into Blitz mode.

Seeing the blond vanish up the steps, Razer disposed of his cigarette on the concrete. With a solemn expression, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and began to make his way to the tracks as well.

Right now he was angry and he couldn't exactly pinpoint why. Mizo trailing on his ass wasn't making his mood very good. Knowing that this Eco freak might once again win this race wasn't making it any better. Losing pride over someone else trying to complete his job drove him mad. If he was told to do something by Mizo, he was very territorial with his kills. That's why Cutter got it.

Now he had to worry about disposing of the assassin that would attempt to kill him later who would, of course, fail because he'd reach him first. The comfort and luxury of his retired life was on the line and there were only two options of securing it.

One – get back into Mizo's good graces by disposing of Rayn as asked before. Or two – accept Rayn's earlier proposal on marriage papers and take the risk of siding with her. Siding with her had more risks since her position as the next Crime Lord in power was not really guaranteed yet. Not to mention his cold and glorious reputation wouldn't really hold so well amongst the other criminals if he was married. What kind of criminal got married?

Of course it was just a front for the public but still… The sound of it just made him want to crack up into a drunken fit of laughter.

He tried to forget about everything once he entered his vehicle and pulled up to the starting line. When it came to racing, he never let anything distract him. He'd go as fast as he could, aiming his missiles at whoever got in his way. He still hated Jak and whether he ever decided on siding with Rayn or not, that wouldn't make him hesitate passing him at the finish line.

It was when he felt _her_ glare on him again that all these thoughts re-entered his mind. His arms stiffened on the wheel and although he didn't look, he knew. He heard her engine rumble and her tires make their way to the starting line as well.

He sighed._ Nothing_ would make his hesitate passing Jak on the finish line, so why couldn't his foot move when her vehicle was so near?

Damn obstacles in my life! There's only one way to solve them and that's to get rid of them.

He smiled deviously. _Someone's going to die tonight…_

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Arms stretched high as Rayn let out a cat-like yawn. Flexing her fingers and slumping her shoulders, she closed her bedroom door behind her. It was a long day, one that was worth it since Jak once again won another race.

The taste of alcohol was still fresh in her mouth and her hair beckoned to be released from its braided bun. With a sigh, she pulled out the pin and her hair fell down her back. With a lazy groan, she let herself fall onto her silky bed.

She was tired. Physically and mentally. She had raced and her mind dwelled on both necessary and unnecessary things.

Kras City. The Final Race. Becoming Crime Lord with Lucien's vile existence. Checking up at the lab for her team's promised antidotes. Going over her father's diary to take notes of plans and schemes. Mizo's identity and how that could shorten her life span. If Razer would side with her or not.

A drink couldn't sooth it and now she was wondering about stupid things like relationships and love. Sulking in her own self-pity because of a warmth she lacked in her life.

It was stupid and it made no sense. With all the money and power she had, why linger on such small things? Her cheek stuck to the soft bed sheet and with another groan, she lifted herself out of bed.

"What every woman needs after a long day of stress is nothing more than a nice hot bath," she comforted herself.

She slipped off her shoes and made her way towards her bathroom. The tiles sent a chill up her spine. Once the porcelain tub was full of warm water, she undressed, dropped in a few drops of Jasmine bubble bath and stepped in. Her hair strung messily on the top of her head as she leaned back to relax.

It had been about a half hour as she sat there, continuing to drive herself crazy in her mind. Her wrinkling fingers told her it was time to get to dryer territory and she obeyed.

She dried herself quickly before slipping on a lacy, lavender robe. It was in the middle of tying her sash that she heard it. It was a sound coming from the window.

Any ordinary person would excuse it as a mouse, but there were none in the Krew mansion. It couldn't be anything outside when she was a good three floors up. The wind was too weak to be making such a sound.

_Did I close the window before I left? Did I lock the door before I came in?_

She continued to chastise herself, searching the bathroom for the nearest weapon available. Soap and shower caps would do no good. Finally setting her eyes on her back scrubber, she reached out and grabbed it swiftly. It was the only thing that might cause some damage with a good whack or so. At least enough damage to make a run for her pistol.

The sound was long gone and the only thing filling her ears were the sounds of her thrashing heart. Cautiously, she cracked the bathroom door open. Mist spilled out from beneath her feet onto the carpet outside of it. Her eyes darted to the corners of the room and nothing. There was no obvious presence in the room.

_Perhaps I'm being too paranoid…_

It was too quiet and she didn't trust it. Taking a firm grip of her back scrubber with both hands, she slowly crept into her bedroom. Water was still trickling down her back and through her robe. Her feet were bare and deliberately careful with their steps.

She eyed her window when she realized there was no sign of anyone entering her room. The window was cracked open a bit, but she couldn't remember if she had left it that way this morning or not. She exhaled a frustrated sigh and just as her arm began to lower with the back scrubber in hand, a swift throw sent her flying onto her bed.

Rayn gasped and kicked with all her might. She didn't bother turning her bedroom light on when she came in and now her eyes were struggling to adjust and make out the masculine shape hovering above her.

A cold blade stung her throat and she inhaled sharply. Rayn froze and so did the man currently on top of her. Her legs straddled him as he forcefully pinned one arm to the bed with one of his, and his other arm held the weapon to her neck. Her breathing grew heavy.

_Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic._

"Don't panic".

Rayn blinked, a baffled expression sweeping over her face. "Wha- what?"

He warned again in a whisper, "I said, don't panic. It won't be long and I'll make it as swift as possible".

_Oh Precursors! What won't be long? What will be as swift as possible?_ All the thoughts flashed through her mind. _Death. Rape. Torture. What?_

Her eyes finally began to adjust to the night in her room. She blinked, squinting and trying to make the burglar out. It took her a moment but the dark hair and the emerald eyes peering down at her were unmistakable.

"Razer?" She tilted her head at him, painfully pressing her to the mattress. A new anger boiled inside her. Heat tinged her cheeks and power began to spread through her fingers.

He must've sensed it.

"If you dare to attack me, you'll only make things worse for yourself".

"So I'm supposed to let you do - do whatever?" She hissed at him and he hushed her.

He leaned in close to her, not removing the blade from her throat. Eye to eye, he whispered, "Just shut up and cooperate".

Before she could protest or scream for her guards, the breath between them came to a close. Her eyes widened as she felt him press his lips on hers, hard and fierce.

Her body panicked, begging to get this intruder off of her. The knife was still at her throat and her arm still pinned back. With a struggle, she managed to free her other arm and started to fist his back. He only pressed against her more, delving his mouth into hers and she welcomed him unwillingly.

If only she had her pistol but it was in her nightstand and too far away. She was helpless. A tear escaped her eye. Was he – was he going to….

Her damp body went numb and limp. Fear possessed her. She had no weapon. She had no strength. The very man, whom she let herself get too close to, was now straddled between her legs, painfully pinning her down and having his way.

All she could think about was how stupid she was. How weak she was. How could she let her guard down so easily? It was all a lie. The little bits of sympathy she had for him, the small piece of her that believed that he wasn't just a cold murderer or rapist, it was all a damn lie.

In an instant, the door slammed open and Razer lingered only for a split second before lifting off of her. The blade that was at her throat now flew with a flash of red across the room towards the doorway.

Into someone else's skull?

The man dressed in black fell to the floor. Razer quickly turned to grab the ends of the mattress.

"What are you doing?" She cried through broken and confused sobs.

He barely glanced at her before lifting the mattress, successfully rolling her off. She fell to the carpet with a thump and before she could get up, the mattress was thrown on top of her.

Her hands were tempted to push it off and demand what was going on but the gunshots stilled them in place. Gunshots? Who had come here? Had Mizo really risked an attempt on her life before the final race?

Rayn crawled beneath her bed frame, dragging herself with her elbows. All she could make out was the pair of feet that belonged to Razer and the black veiled bodies that hit the floor in seconds.

"What happened to my guards? Guards!"

"They're dead! Don't you get it?"

She heard him yell and her head sunk onto her knuckles.

A long, dreadful silence passed. All she could hear were her worries and the slight movements of Razer walking around. A good three bodies were dumped in her room and that wasn't counting the ones out in the hall if what Razer said was true.

She didn't realize it, but her eyes had shut themselves in the moment. When she finally opened them, she saw his feet face the bed.

"You can come out now".

The first thing she wanted to do was get the hell out of there. But for some reason, she couldn't move. She was lost in terror and her mind was still trying to figure out what had just happened. From Razer breaking in, forcing her down with a knife, possibly sexually assaulting her and then killing some random men that came into the room. It was too much at one time.

She heard Razer's solemn voice soften slightly, "They're all dead. It's safe".

She didn't want to say it, but that wasn't what she was afraid of. Meekly crawling out from under the bed, a hand was offered to her.

She blindly jumped by the sudden movement, and once realizing that it was just Razer's hand, she didn't take it. She got up on her own and made her way to the other end of the room by her nightstand. She was shivering, scared shitless, and now reaching for her pistol.

She unlocked the safety and cocked her gun at Razer, standing across from her. His posture stood tall and unrelenting.

"What the hell is going on?"

Razer didn't answer. There was no simple answer that he could give her. Unless she calmed down and put away her weapon, he couldn't explain.

Her hands shook with the piece of metal in her hands. Her fingers itching for the trigger and her palms sweating. Everything happened so fast. She couldn't think straight. All she could think about was shooting anything that posed a threat. That even included the body-groping racer in front of her.

"I thought – I was beginning to trust you".

"I'm your enemy, Rayn. Trusting your enemy wasn't a wise choice to begin with".

She shook her head. "I know that already but still - for some reason, I was. I can't explain it and now here you are, my neck bleeding because of you!"

Razer stood silent, his gaze following the shaking gun in her hand. In any other situation, he would've made his way to her and forced the gun out of her grasp. However, in the turmoil and kind of condition she was in, any wrong movement could mean a bullet to his head. Jumping at her when she couldn't even think straight was too dangerous.

There was no other option. Shoot her first.

He lifted his arm to cock his gun at her with a click. Her eyes widened with shock.

Rayn pursed her lips in anger. "I don't understand…"

"Put the gun down, Rayn or I _will_ shoot you. It's my job anyway," he confessed. If she hadn't figured it out by now, then it was better this way. She had let her guard down too easily, walking into her home so passively, involving with criminals without thought to her consequence.

She needed to learn. _Never_ trust your enemies.

"You were sent to kill me? Is the only reason why you released me was to kill them first? Then you were going to lure me into what I thought was safe so you could finish me off?"

"Put the gun down, Rayn!"

"No!" She screeched. Tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks but her pride held them in. She felt violated. Dirty. Scared and foolish.

Razer had finally made his gamble. He shot a bullet at her feet and she jumped with a scream. The shot ricocheted off the ground with a spark and his body tackled her onto the carpet. Her pistol flew under the bed frame.

She thrashed about wildly. Screaming of betrayal and threats to kill him once she was set free. Somehow, he managed to grab both her wrists into his hands.

"You betrayed me, you bastard! You told me that sob story to make me feel bad for you and it was a lie!"

"Rayn!"

"If you kill me, I'll haunt you for the rest of my afterlife until I meet you in hell!"

"Rayn!" He yelled louder. His nose against hers. Without realizing, her tears finally managed to fall from her trembling amber eyes.

She finally shut up. Her body trapped beneath his on the carpet, his hot breath on her face just like it was less than fifteen minutes ago. She was finally listening.

"You're alive, aren't you?"

**-------------------------------------------------------------**

**Cliffy! I think if I were Rayn, I would've passed out long ago. Blood, gore and bodies on my floor – would've been enuf to make me go OO and boom…**


	13. Chapter 13 : A Savior that Never Came

**Sorry this is so late. Just got over a cold, new job, got accepted into school, lots of obstacles. Here it is and I hope I made the wait worth it.**

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**Chapter 13**

"You told him what?"

Somehow through his entire explanation of the chaos set loose into her life, Rayn had drowned out everything except that one little detail. He just happened to mention it in a blur of words that he hoped she wouldn't catch.

Razer felt a dry lump rise in his throat. He felt like he was walking on eggshells. Any wrong word or any wrong tone would set this woman reaching for her gun again. The first time, he was clever and merciful. He wasn't sure she'd be so lucky the next time around.

Rayn felt her icy fingers clamp around her glass with a squeak. With her eyes threatening to spill tears once again, she settled for another gulp of the alcohol in her glass. It burned, but unfortunately wasn't bitter enough. This was her third glass and she hoped it would somehow transform the night's events into a fuzzy dream-like 'it never happened' bubble that would eventually bury itself somewhere in her head where'd she'd never find it again. So far - it wasn't working.

Her flesh crawled as horrific images still flashed through her mind. The hot, heavy body that was pressing against her on her mattress. Groping and kissing her against her will. The men that barged into her room and were killed, one by one by the same man who had just sexually assaulted her. The strong stench on her once plush carpet that was still fresh in her nostrils. Her confusion that led her into a gunpoint duel in which she was lucky he hadn't shot her when he had the chance.

Then, so easily, he had thrown her a handkerchief and ordered her to clean up in her bathroom while he 'cleaned up' things outside. Little had he known, she collapsed in her bathroom. Clawing the tiles and burying her tear streaked face into his handkerchief shamelessly. She had never felt so alone, so low, so violated and so afraid. A part of her wanted to draw herself a bath to drown herself in, yet some small speck of motivation brought her back to her feet to wash up and change out of the blood stained clothes.

Rayn honestly didn't know how long had passed because the sun was beginning to break into her window before he heard him call out. She didn't answer. He opened her bathroom door, to find her slumping by the tub and staring at the floor.

Once again, Razer offered her a hand. Still, she did not take it. Instead, she clenched the stinging cut against her neck. The one he had inflicted on her. The blood dotted across the white bandage she had placed across it. Rayn couldn't meet his eyes, this time, for a different reason than earlier.

Fear. Betrayal. Pain.

"Do you want to stay here until someone else comes for you? I doubt the next person will be a friendly one," Razer said coldly, quickly taking back his offered hand. Now he no longer trying to lure her gently since he was running out of patience. Now he was giving her an ultimatum. Either way, she didn't feel safe. Either way, she had no choice.

The ride back to his home was a quiet one. He let her hold her gun just so that she could feel a tad safer. Of course, little to her knowledge, he had removed the bullets.

Next thing she knew, she found herself sitting on his couch, listening to the explanation she had demanded of him during her temporary fit of insanity. Now that he was trying to explain, although still vaguely and keeping some details to himself, she couldn't listen.

Then, as if his words had snapped her from her daze, she caught that one part.

"_What_ did you tell Mizo?" Her glare on him was fierce but her hands were quivering with uncertainty.

Razer was calm, leaning against the kitchen counter, his eyes on her back until now. Her body twisted toward him, to face him with anger in her eyes. He lifted a dark brow at the woman. "Is that what's so important right now?"

She shook her head in disbelief. "I was on my back – doing _wondrous_ things to you? You made him think that I was your – your personal tramp?" The words sounded like a cruel joke, even as she confirmed them with her own lips.

"It saved your life, didn't it?"

"Saved my life? Saved my life!" Her glass was sent shattering against his coffee table, splattering pieces of crystal onto the floor and drops of alcohol onto his sofa. He didn't seem fazed by it since one of his windows was already broken - most likely from the attempt to dispose of him before her nightly visit. She stood up, her fists clenching at her sides.

Anger possessed her. She didn't even remember standing up or even wanting to, but now she was. Standing, furious, and not knowing what the hell to do with her rage.

"So you found it necessary to force me onto my bed, and- and put your hands on me, put your lips on me just to make your story believable? Just to draw them in? Just to trick them into thinking we were off guard, you-"

Rayn found herself screeching. Razer didn't move to stop her, nor did he seem to care. Her heel throbbed with the pain of just stomping her foot, which she couldn't remember wanting to do, either. Instincts were just taking over. She wasn't thinking before she took action and she couldn't stop thinking about everything.

"I hate you!" Rayn suddenly screamed. Funny, she had no idea where that came from either.

"Hmm," Razer shook his head. "Very ungrateful, aren't we? I'm still very much obliged to kill you, you know?"

Rayn did not answer. She was getting mighty tired of his smug little attitude. She hissed with disgust before reaching for her jacket.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"There's another race later today and I need to get some things afterward".

"I wouldn't advise you to go back to that house," Razer lifted a brow at her, warning that she'd be taking a risk if she went back there. She didn't care. And, for that matter, what did he care?

Rayn seized his doorknob, yanking his door open and ready to march outside. "Well I can't stay stuffed in here forever".

He raised a finger, "You don't have a car to go back in". He could tell he was only adding to her anger, but he'd be damned if he took the risk on possibly, sort of siding, with her just so she could go and kill herself foolishly. That would be waste.

"Well, I can walk. I'm not made of glass," she deadpanned.

Just before she stepped onto his porch, she heard him mumble something inaudible under his breath. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but she knew it was one of his smart remarks.

She whipped around to face him, her hair frizzy and wild down her shoulders. Dark bags hung from her eyes and her lips stretched with anger until they were pale. The night had distorted her into a zombie-like shell of the woman who was usually so clever and so secure during the races.

"What was that?" Rayn snapped. Razer did not move to meet her gaze. Instead, he kept his eyes on the floor ahead of him while his finger struck his chin in thought.

"It's your funeral," Razer shrugged, although that wasn't what he said under his breath.

Rayn's deadly glare lingered on him for one last moment before she answered with a quick, disapproving huff. She slammed the door on her way out.

Razer sighed, shaking his head at the wits of this woman. He really should've left her there.

He motioned back towards his coffee maker. He had no intention of following her or stopping her any further than what he attempted. Now she was on her own. She was a big girl. Hopefully, she'd be big enough to stay alive.

His deep green eyes loitered on his coffee mug. "Not made of glass, huh? And yet, you shatter so easily…"

_That_ – was what he had said under his breath.

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"Don't feel like racing today?" Jak questioned, eyeing the suspicious team leader with the curve of his brow.

Rayn crossed her arms along with her expression. "I'm fine, thank you".

"Uh- okay. Well, see you on the other end, then," Jak saluted, deciding it was probably better for his health if he'd just mind his business.

But leave it to an ottsel to lack that kind of common sense.

"Hey, what's plucking your buds? And what's with that snazzy cut on your neck? New tough trend or something?"

Jak's growl was enough to silence Daxter, but it was already too late. Actually, Jak hadn't noticed the cut on Rayn's neck because of the high collar on her racing gear. Now that Daxter mentioned it, perhaps he was onto something.

Jak gave Daxter one last glare so he would keep his trap shut. The furry animal shrunk behind Jak's head with an awkward laugh.

"You okay, Rayn?" Jak extended his concerned look towards her but she didn't accept it. She grew slightly nervous, stepping back to avoid his prying eyes.

She swallowed the heaviness in her throat before she answered, "I told you, I'm fine, Jak. Now go on and race. The last announcement should be soon, and you'll need to be in your vehicle by then".

Rayn could feel his suspicions crowding around her like a cloud of smoke. She couldn't breath. She could feel the heat on her cheeks. She just needed to get away from him, from anyone that would question her about it. She refused to talk about it.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer until he decided it was best not to pursue the topic anymore. With a nod, Jak walked away from her with a wave.

Rayn released the puff of air she had been holding in. That was a close one. Just as she predicted, the droning and crackling sound of the announcer came on, demanding that all drivers report to their vehicles.

She didn't feel like racing today. She wasn't quite sure why, but she just couldn't find the motivation to go out there. Not right now. Not like this.

She stepped outside of the garage to watch the race start at a distance. From afar, she could make out the sleek, black Havoc, making its way beside Jak's vehicle. She tried not to notice. She could feel it, anger and fear, stretching its cold fingers around her heart.

It was a long morning. Somehow, drunk and angry, she was able to make it to another Krew property in one piece. The entire walk allowed the night's events to replay in her mind. It was driving her mad. That Mizo, he had some real nerve. And Razer had some nerve, too. Both men, thinking they could make things go their way at the snap of their fingers, doing things without question, walking around with their arrogant grins. It disgusted her. Maybe they really did deserve each other.

Still, something else angered her. She wasn't quite sure what yet. All she knew was that every time she looked in Razer's direction, she just wanted to go up to him and slap him. Slap him and scream at him. Scream all she wanted but- what was she screaming at him for? Sure, the fact that Razer saved her dawned on her during her long meditation and she really should've been somewhat grateful but, she just couldn't find it in herself to be thankful.

That man just made all kinds of things set off in her. Things she didn't even know how to describe. Things she didn't even know what to do with.

Shaking her head at the vehicles passing by for their second lap, she decided to make a call and check up on the status of the antidotes. She wanted to make sure her other resources weren't hit. If she was lucky, the only place Mizo found out about was her home.

Later on she'd have to go back there. As much as she really didn't want to, there were things she had to go back for. Numerous files, money, confidential information, her father's diary and so on. It was too risky to leave those things behind.

Then again, it was risky to go back. It crossed her mind once or twice whether there would be more men, lurking in her corners awaiting her arrival. She also wondered what happened to the bodies that were sprawled about her room that Razer said he 'cleaned up'. Then again, maybe it was better not to know. But surely he hadn't been able to get rid of _all_ of them. The guards, the assassins, and whoever else. Had there been survivors, some of her servants, her cooking staff? There had to have been a few poor souls who ran from the mansion, never to return, leaving her for dead.

It also crossed her mind, that if something did happen while she was there, would she be able to fend them off? Would her quick wits enable her to survive? What could she do against multiple men, attacking her with weapons? She was only one woman and although she could hold her own with a pistol, it wouldn't take too long before she went down.

The words 'It's your funeral' echoed through her mind. This time, she'd have no savior to flip a mattress over her from the gunshots. Not that she wanted him to be her savior or anything, especially since he had attacked her in his own way against her will. Really, she could've done without the hard kiss on her lips and his heavy body suffocating her. Was that really necessary? Then to add to it all, the rumors he had spread about her being some sort of skank. It made her palms itch against her nails every time she thought about it.

"Damn it to Mar!" Rayn cursed. She couldn't stop thinking about him. 'Go away' She mentally scolded herself. She wanted to forget his smirk, his cocky laugh and the feel of his lips on hers. Forget it. Forget it. Forget it.

By the time her eyes looked back up on the tracks and she had made her phone call, the race was over. Once again, as expected, Jak won the race, much to Razer's dismay, of course. She was beginning to think that the only reason Jak was winning so much against Razer was because he knew his life was on the line, literally. Not just because of Mizo but because his body was slowly disintegrating with the poison she had given him and his friends. Too bad Razer didn't know this. It might've saved him some pride.

"Stop it, Rayn!" she told herself again. Once again he popped into her head randomly and she shook it away. Just as she tossed her head, a pair of eyes met her across the distance. The same pair of eyes she was trying so hard to get rid of.

For a moment, their gazes lingered. For all she knew, he couldn't have even been looking at her. Still, he stared and so did she. It felt long but it was only a few seconds before she coughed and looked away. She guessed he probably turned away with that signature grin of his.

The race was over and now she was wasting time. The antidotes were prepared. The final race was already tomorrow afternoon. Time had flown by so fast.

Less than 48 hours, and her fate would be determined. Somehow, she wasn't as excited as she should have been…

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Just as Razer expected from her, Rayn looked away, trying to avoid any contact with him. Honestly, he couldn't blame her. After applying some thought to the situation, maybe he _had _instilled some unnecessary fear into the woman, especially since his records held him as some accused rapist of some sort.

Knowing her, she had misinterpreted a lot of things about him. Still, he had no control over what she thought, and the effort to change her mindset on him seemed too bothersome. So whatever she thought of him, she'd have to sort it out herself and that was that.

He didn't have time to go dawdling and batting his eyelashes at her so she wouldn't treat him like some dangerous animal. It was better for her to feel that way. Safer for her to feel that way. Not only safe for her but also safe for him.

Never again should he make such close contact with that woman and never again should he maintain being in her presence in his home alone. He was finding it a bit strenuous to understand these new things beginning to stir in him. New things he hadn't felt in years and things he wasn't even sure of what they were.

He didn't fear danger. He didn't fear death. But slowly and maturely, as time drew on, he was beginning to fear her. She was getting too close and too close would only result in disaster, for them both…

Still, it was amusing to see the way she scurried from him so. The way her eyes adverted themselves in the opposite direction. And the way he'd catch them on him when she thought he was off-guard. He didn't understand her. He didn't understand himself.

Why had he bothered saving her? He had risked so much, and for nothing. At the rate she was going, returning to the very same place in which he warned her not to return to, she'd probably be dead by next sunrise and he'd have no Crime Lord to follow. His riches would mean nothing and either way, he had no desire to work for Mizo any longer.

That was why he tried his very hardest to take in every piece of his atmosphere. From the roar of the crowds and his tire marks blackening the concrete below his feet, he hadn't realized how much he had missed racing after he retired. It was because of _that_ woman that he had set his vehicle back on the tracks, because she had brought that driver on her team.

He had retired because he was the best and there was no competition left. The thrill had long run dry and there was nothing he hadn't accomplished. Once Jak came into the race, as much as he hated the green rooted elf, the fire he once had to scream his presence on the road returned. It burned and made him alive while he drove. It made the blood coursing through his veins boil in fatal excitement. Now everything was drawing to an end and as the end would draw near, some things would have to end for him. Racing. Luxury. And Kras City.

By sunrise, she might be dead. And whether she was or not, by the next sundown, he would be gone. The final race would be his last, not just for all the drivers this season but also for him and for good

He could think of no better way to end this legend of his than to race one last time, before he was never to be seen again…

He wasn't too fond of the girl and he was sure she wasn't too fond of him - although, at times they served each other as good entertainment and a few – awkward moments. Still, he knew that somehow, in some way, maybe he owed her a thank you; but of course, he couldn't' find it in his solemn self to thank her, even in his mind. All he could muster up was a goodbye.

_Farewell, Krew princess…_

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Rayn's heartbeat seemed to quicken at every creaking step she took upon her familiar wooden floors. What should've been comforting, stepping into the warm arms of her main Krew mansion, was now a barren territory, one that she felt she shouldn't trespass.

It terrified her. Brought chills deep down into her bones. The thought that she could turn a corner and discover something unsightly like what Razer 'had cleaned' up only made every turn a nail raking mystery. Every hall and every door that opened to her, she prayed not to step or fall onto something unnatural, something that would scare her witless and have her running out of her mansion like a chicken without a head. Her stomach already churned its acids, bubbling up to the back of her throat at the stenches of the dead surrounding her.

To add to it all, she had to keep her eyes wide and alert, for anyone still trying to get rid of her and attack her. Her fingers clamped onto her pistol and it was her only security. The cold metal however, did nothing to rid her fear of finding a mutilated dead body. Of course she knew they had only been shot or stabbed, but still, her imagination had run wild since she had pondered 'Razer's cleanups' and she had sorted all kinds of things he could've done with the bodies, 'just for fun', maybe.

She shivered just thinking about it again. The pale moonlight pooled through the shades of the long halls and high ceilings, as if nothing had happened at all. Quiet and peaceful, if none of this had happened, she would've been soundly asleep in her silky bed sheets. Silently she wished that it was so. She wished that right now, she would be walking down the hall in her warm slippers, yawning and waving off her servant to enjoy a nice, hot bath before bed.

She had never realized it, but she had begun to miss her servants. Sure, they were only there because they were being paid, but they were the only company she had. Now she was alone. That only made things worse.

A small feeling of relief swept over her when she neared her bedroom entrance in which everything had transpired. With a cautious creak, she cracked the door open and looked around. The coast was clear and she felt it was safe to step in and go about her business.

She walked over to a picture frame she had, removing it to reveal a small safe. Carefully inserting the combination, within a few short clicks, she opened it and pulled out a stash of orbs and her father's diary. Once packing that into the bag she held on her shoulder, she scurried over to her desk. It was hard to see in the dark but flicking on the desk lamp would attract too much attention if someone were still lingering.

She mumbled angrily as she shuffled through her papers and files, reaching for only the ones that were most important to her. Getting on her knees to stuff them into her pack, one folder managed to sway away onto the carpet. She crawled towards it with another curse before lifting it up and realizing what it was. None other than Razer's file. Fate must've had fun amusing itself with her.

With a sigh, she resisted looking at his young face in the picture and stuffed it in her bag, as well. Her fingers shook as she closed the zipper and, finally, it had dawned up on her.

The final race was nearing, and soon, it would be all over. She was sure she'd gain her position as Kras' most powerful Crime Lord, but other than that, there wasn't much left. Besides the trophy, the riches and the power, after the final race, Jak's team would have no reason to stay any longer. Therefore they would go their own way to lives that were much warmer than her own. Lives with lovers, friends and fun times.

All the people she had paid to be close to her were either dead or had run off, most likely to never be seen again after her attempted assassination. Her father, although distant and irritating at times, was the closest she ever had to a family and he was dead. Nothing but a large hologram, floating and directing her life.

And Razer…she didn't know what to refer to him as anymore. She felt so lonesome and as she dwelled deeper on that single thought, a small draft made her huddle her arms and almost whimper. She couldn't remember ever feeling this alone and this helpless. She was always so full of authority and so full of power and yet, here she was now, no one to guide her, no one to be by her side.

She looked around her bedroom, and even though she could hardly call this place her home because she had never really felt much at home anywhere, she truly, deeply wanted nothing more than to be embraced in her bed right now, like everything was just a bad dream.

As she closed her eyes and hoped that, by some spark of magic, that everything would go away when she opened them, a set of footsteps sounded outside the bedroom door.

With a gasp, she dropped her pack onto the floor and aimed her gun at the doorway. Even though her intention was to defend herself from death, a small part of her was willing to welcome it.

_No! Stop it, Rayn! You can't let yourself do this!_

The door creaked open and masculine hands appeared through the crack. Hope ignited in her. Maybe – just maybe Razer had come. Maybe somewhere, deep inside that cold-hearted killer, there was a heart that was actually concerned for her life.

And just as that hope began to set in, it was quickly shot down when an unfamiliar blond stepped into the darkness.

"Who the hell are you?" Rayn demanded, unlocking the safety on her pistol with a click.

A cigar fell onto a carpet, which the man coolly snubbed out with his foot. With a cocky grin that she was getting very sick of seeing on men, he gave her a wave.

"Hey, baby, you should be more careful about how ya go about this place. It ain't very safe for ya".

She cringed at him, pet calling her with a very amateurish slang accent. Even with her gun at him, he didn't seem the slightest bit intimidated.

"Name's Jinx, lady. Don't worry, my orders weren't to get rid of ya, although I'm sure the Governor would love to see me do that".

She lifted a brow suspiciously at Jinx. "The Governor?"

"Oh, you know, the Governor of Haven City, of course. I still like to refer to myself as the Commander's main man though, that's who I really take my orders from anyway".

"Well, that's all sugar and crumpets, but what the hell are you doing here and what do you want with me if you're not here to kill me?"

Jinx strode towards the large window, observing the scene of tattered pieces of silk and the blood stained carpet. "Nothing at all, just pretend I'm not here. I'm only here under orders of the Commander to confirm the rumors that the Krew mansion was raided. The Governor knows nothing of this."

"She doesn't? Why not?"

"Because…well, let's just say that the Commander sometimes likes to check things out first before bringing it to her attention, you know, takes half of the load from her and deals with it so she doesn't have to worry about getting her hands dirty if she doesn't need to. So this place was torn to pieces, ey? And you're still in one piece, minus the wound on that pretty little neck of yours".

Rayn blinked, confused and feeling put on the spot. "How does Torn know where this place is and how does he know what happened? How do you know about the cut on my neck?"

Jinx grinned, "Like I said, the Commander likes to be informed but he wont' take any action unless it's necessary. That's what I'm here for. I get the info and he decides what to do with it. Right now, it seems that you are being targeted and it wouldn't do anyone any good if you were dead 'cause you're the one with the antidotes. You die, and then they all die. So, as much as the Governor wouldn't mind something happening to you, the Commander knows that you're essential to their survival. That's why I'm here".

Rayn lowered her gun. "Wait – so you're here to make sure I _don't_ die? How long has the _Commander_ been keeping tabs on me and what I have been doing?" Rayn was shocked. She had no idea that Haven's Commander was so slick with his sources and spies, and so well informed on things she was sure she had kept secret.

"Yeah, you could say I'm your personal hero until the final race," he gave her a wink and Rayn winced in response. Jinx laughed, "And as for the Commander, he knows a lot more than you think, but like I said, only what is necessary gets passed onto the Governor. She can be a little hot headed at times so Torn is the one that keeps the situation at bay. Everything that's happening, what I have just told you and what I am doing now, stays between us? Got it?"

"Uh…yeah," Rayn locked the safety on her pistol before putting it away. "I'm a bit confused, but whatever, just get me the hell out of this place".

"Sure, no problem, lady. You can count on good ol' Jinx here. Of course, I'm sure you were wishing I was that dark haired racer instead though".

Without a second thought, she fisted Jinx's collar into her hands. "What? What do you know of him!" She demanded. Heat was rushing to her cheeks at the thought of this Jinx guy spying on her the entire time, even when she had traveled to meet Razer.

Jinx shook his head with another grin, "Don't worry. I spared those little details from the Commander. It was amusing for me but don't worry, you're secret is safe".

She released him with a growl. She didn't even know him, but she already hated him. Cocky, stupid accent and another smoking chimney. What is it with all these damn men smoking like industrial factories all the time?

"Do me a favor then, _Jinx_. From now on, after we get out of here, you are to get off my hide and never ever come across my path again. If I catch you spying on me, I will kill you myself".

"Don't worry, I told ya. I won't be around much longer and we can all go home happy, all right?"

Rayn walked on ahead. 'Go home happy' huh? Well, she didn't really have a home at the moment, but she knew where she was heading after this. Straight to the very same racer who had yet to show up to her rescue and probably never would. Once again, all she could think about was the anger he instilled in her, just of his mere thought.

"Smoke, babe?"

"No!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Razer sat on his heels, pushing the remaining boxes aside with a strained sigh. Although he hadn't chose to pack much, he put some of his most important items in boxes so that later on, he could come back for them. Although he was leaving this life, the only thing he wanted to keep was his racing trophies, the golden marks of the one thing in his life that he didn't regret.

Everything in his loft, he'd leave the same. It would be as if a ghost had lived here and moved on, leaving everything untouched, even a small book left open on his kitchen counter. That was the way he wanted it. If anyone would come searching for him, they'd find his home left untouched, as if he was just spirited away. The only things that were coming with him were a stash of orbs and a suitcase full of clothes. He even wished he could take his Havoc, but his vehicle was his trademark and sadly, he'd have to leave it behind for a less conspicuous car.

If he was lucky, Rayn would live and Mizo would be defeated. Therefore he'd have no one to go searching after him, attempting to kill him. And even if Mizo stood in power, after his last unsuccessful attempt on his life, maybe he'd just leave him be.

Either way, his mind was made up. The only thing left for him to do, was to finish that final race tomorrow.

He got up, dusting his hands off and rotating his shoulders in cracking circles. Sweat pricked through his white t-shirt and caused him to remove it. He threw it on the floor with the intention of heading to the shower.

Just as he was about to step into his bathroom, a sound caught his attention from his doorway. With a creased brow, he approached his front hall. The silver knob jiggled until he heard a swift kick and a curse on the other end of his door. He snickered.

"I took the key out this time, my dear," he mocked the woman on the other end, knowing full well that it could be no other.

"Open the door this instant, Razer!" Rayn demanded, her hands in fists at her sides.

"This instant, hmm? And why should I do that, Miss Rayn?"

_She was alive. Lucky girl…_

She stood silent on the other end. She hadn't really thought this through well enough. What was she coming here for? Just to yell at him and ask him why he didn't come to her rescue? She should've expected that though. What explanation was she supposed to give him for opening the door? Why had she really come here?

Sensing that she must've been torturing herself outside in her mind, Razer opened the door and turned away before she could enter. The gust of air and the slam of the wood announced her presence rather abruptly for his mood but, what the hell, why not?

As usual, she made herself welcome. Trying to contain his smirk, he watched as she made straight for his sofa, draping her jacket over the side.

"Comfortable as usual, I see. So, you're alive? Luck is on your side".

"No thanks to you," she hissed.

Razer's head fell back in laughter. "Me? I don't know if I'm recalling correctly, but last I know, my part was done when I saved you from being assassinated after your lovely evening bath".

She stood silent, obviously searching her thoughts for something. He observed her. Why was she here? And why had he opened the door? He was such a fool.

"So, does this mean that you have thought on my proposal? Have you accepted me as your boss?" Her chin rested on her shoulder, although her ear was to him, she didn't face him behind her.

His back rested on his kitchen counter, a small towel hung around his neck. "Your proposal? Oh, I see. You think that I'm on your side now, is that it?"

Rayn turned to him, lifting a brow. She was confused. If he wasn't siding with her and agreeing on her proposal for the counterfeit marriage to secure his wealth and her power, why the hell did he bother rescuing her? What benefit did he have?

Razer shook his head, "Ms. Krew, I will never, _ever_ take orders from you. Is that understood?"

"Excuse me? Then what the hell do you plan to do with yourself once Mizo's gone, go sell yourself on a street corner?" Rayn stood up, her anger beginning to set in once again.

Rayn's hot temper only provoked Razer to toy with her. "Sell myself on the street? You know, that may not be such a bad idea".

"Oh, stop joshing me".

"Me? Josh? Never," he replied with his smirk finally revealing itself at full power.

Now he was mocking her accent. "I don't- I don't understand you!"

Razer nodded, "That's makes two of us. I don't understand you, either. Like why the hell are you here? Why are you wasting my time? Do you want me to kill you that badly?"

"Oh, yeah? Well, why did you rescue me and then not rescue me last night? Why did you open your door?"

Razer shrugged carelessly. "I suppose you provide me with some good entertainment every now and then".

"Entertainment!" Rayn clenched her teeth. "Damn, I hate you".

Razer nodded again, "Yes, I'm fully aware of that. You made it known to me last time you were here, too".

Rayn was speechless. She was running out of words and running out of excuses to stay here. Now she just looked like a spoiled child, bickering about who knows what and screaming nonsense. Really, she was an imprudent one.

For some odd reason, she suddenly felt out of place. Like she should go, but she – she didn't want to. Something about being here made her want to stay here. She couldn't understand herself.

He drove her mad. He scared her witless at times. And yet, something about this loft, something about his presence, made her want to stay near it. As scared as she could be at times, somehow, in some strange way, she felt the safest here. It didn't make any sense and her head was beginning to throb.

Suddenly, an object under the sofa caught her eye. It seemed that he noticed it, as well because his mouth opened to say something before she got on her knees and investigated it for herself.

'Shit!' Razer thought.

Rayn looked even more confused. She stood up, holding one of the boxes and finally taking notice of her surroundings that she was too angry to observe upon her entrance earlier. There were some boxes lying around in the corners across the carpet living room. By the front door where she had so eagerly barged through, a suitcase rested against the wall. Finally it dawned upon her. Her eyes widened with surprise.

"Y-you're going somewhere?"

Razer didn't really want to answer, so he didn't. He approached her to take the box from her hands and set it on the kitchen counter. Since she already knew, there was no point in hiding it any longer. So as she stared at him in awe, he opened a new box and began placing some things in it. That was her answer.

"What about the race tomorrow? It's the last Championship race of the season".

"I'll be at the race tomorrow, but unfortunately it will be my last," he said coldly. Within moments, he had reverted from the man who was teasing her accent back to the icy murderer who left grown men shaking in their boots.

"Where do you plan on going?"

"I don't know. Anywhere but here".

He kept his eyes away from hers. She kept hers on him the entire time. Slowly, she made her way to the counter, facing him and speaking across the marble block between them.

"But what of your luxury? Your fame? Your legend? Your life here in Kras? You're just going to leave it, just like that?" Her head tilted at him in curiosity. She didn't know why she was bothering to question him. Had she wanted him to stay? Why? Why was she beginning to feel like she was slowly falling apart as each word parted from his lips. Is this- that feeling? The one she had always been looking for that she had been deprived of her entire life? No- it couldn't be. Whatever it was though, it was painful.

"Nothing matters anymore. I have nothing here that I want to stay for".

Those words unexpectedly shot through her, opening a wound she hadn't known was there until now. Now she was starting to realize it. She wasn't completely sure, but all she knew, was that she couldn't let this man leave. Not until she figured out what this was that she was feeling.

"Nothing? You have nothing to stay for? But you _have_ to stay. I'm going to be Kras' biggest Crime Lord and I'll need you to ensure my success".

"You'll do just fine, Rayn. You can be irrational at times, but you're an excellent negotiator and have a power over people. Don't refer to me like I have to mentor you for the rest of your life". He was so cold. So closed off. So distant. He didn't realize what he was doing to her. He didn't realize why he was doing it.

"But together we can make Kras one of the most revered cities all over the country and with our influence in Combat Racing, there's no end to the possibilities in our reign".

"I'm sure you can do well with that on your own. I wish you luck".

Rayn was getting frustrated. He wasn't seeing. He wasn't listening. The final race was tomorrow. Her father was a hologram. Her mansion was destroyed. And her team would leave her to live off their lives. She didn't want to be alone. Not again, she couldn't bear it.

"You don't understand, Razer. I _need_ you to stay here in Kras".

Razer did not answer. Instead he closed off the box on the counter and made his way back to the living room to pick up some more storage cases. He tried to ignore her. He regretted opening the door but something in him wasn't letting him kick her out.

It wasn't until he heard a soft whimper that he stopped. He didn't turn to face her, to save them both dignity. Standing firm and silent, he listened. She wasn't crying, but she was on the brink of it. Why was she reacting this way? Did she really think she couldn't do it alone?

It turns out, that wasn't it at all…

"Razer, it's not that I need you to stay in Kras…I want you to," she whispered. She was uncertain. She was lost. She wasn't even sure what made her say the things she was saying. She was tired of trying to understand herself, so now she was letting herself go. She had nothing left to lose.

"I can't, Rayn. I won't," Razer said. He tried not to sound as harsh, but the words most likely sounded that way to her either way.

Once again, he was sure she'd misinterpret him. Just like she misinterpreted his attack on her. Hurting her was an honest mistake. His blade had slipped in her moment of panic. He hadn't thought she'd take it so personally, but he should've known better.

She misinterpreted how he didn't show up the night before. It wasn't because he wasn't concerned, as much as he'd deny ever caring. It was because he trusted her, knew that she was strong enough to survive and that she didn't need him.

She was misunderstanding him now. It's not that a small part of him didn't want to stay in Kras and continue living on his life of fame and luxury. He just felt like a new life was the answer, to repair his old and hopefully find the warmth he had been robbed of since childhood. Now he was starting to wonder, about that warmth…

The click of a gun on his back reverted his attention back to reality. He smiled. There was still a lesson she still had to learn after all.

He spoke with his back to her, "You know, you shouldn't always resort to violence just to get your way".

"Like you're one to talk".

"True".

"Razer, if you plan on leaving Kras, you still pose a threat to me. If you're not on my side, you're a danger and you should be disposed of".

"Hmm, well said, milady. But there is one problem with that".

Rayn raised a brow at him, challenging him and trying to keep her firm stance although her fingers trembled.

"You can't shoot me. You won't," Razer stated matter in factly. He turned around, opening his arms as if offering her a bull's eye.

"You underestimate me," She replied. She closed her eyes and a shot fired across the loft. The sound echoed around her and she gasped in fear. She didn't know how it happened but when her eyes were open, there he was, right in front of her.

With a startled squeak, he grabbed her arms. Her gun fell to the floor. They struggled a bit until they were backed up to a wall. Rayn gasped at the sight of the small cut on his shoulder. She had grazed him, although he successfully dodged her shot. Of course, she had never meant to shoot him seriously, but she was running out of options.

His hot breath blew against her hair. His face above hers with an expression she couldn't identify. His dark hair was wild and falling over his emerald eyes as they glared down at her.

His fingers wrapped tightly around her wrists. It didn't hurt. He wasn't trying to hurt her.

"Woman, you are mad".

Rayn looked up, not knowing what to say. A moment lingered until he became aware of the small blotches of red, bleeding in a straight line on her neck. Her wound had opened during the commotion. She hadn't seemed to notice.

His hand released her wrist to pull the towel from his shoulders, pressing it to her neck. She backed away with a wince of split second fear, and he froze.

"Do you fear me, Rayn?" He searched her expression. His voice was deep, husky and solemn. No ill intent could be sensed from his tone. She answered softly.

"I do, but it's not how you think…"

She looked up to meet his gaze, trying to make out what was running through his mind. She was telling the truth, she wasn't afraid of him hurting her, or killing her. She was just afraid of whatever this was that was brewing inside of her.

Instead of waiting for a reaction, she let the moment take her, take her into doing something she had not expected.

She pushed herself up and kissed him. After all the complaining she had done about him kissing her against her will, now she was kissing him. What the hell was she thinking? Was she bi-polar? Sick? Suffering from schizophrenia? She didn't know, but all she knew was that she had to have him close.

It felt dangerous. It felt a bit scary. But it was the warmest and safest thing she had ever felt in all her life.

His body went stiff. He didn't expect that and she did a great job catching him off guard. He felt himself panic inside. Her body pressed against his, her arms pulling away from his grasp so that she could wrap herself around him. No, she couldn't. This couldn't happen. For Mar's sake, she was a good decade younger than him.

Before Rayn could melt herself in his embrace, he abruptly pulled away, not giving her much of a chance to savor it. Releasing her quickly, he turned away.

"I think- you should leave now".

Right then she heard it. Her heart was breaking. Funny, she didn't know he had it until now. When did this happen?

"Razer, please-".

"Please. Leave," he asked of her one last time.

With a nod, she walked over to fetch her jacket. She fought the burn in her eyes. What the hell was she doing? And what was she going to do now?

She made her way to the door, halfway expecting him to change his mind and pull her back. Of course, Razer was not that kind of man, to go grabbing a woman and confessing some fairy tale love. She almost wanted to run out the door, as fast as she could, away from him and away from whatever this was. Her feet wouldn't go any faster than what they were.

As the door creaked open, her hand squeezed the knob. She stood firm, ready to offer her words wisely in case they were the last things she'd be able to say to him before he vanished.

"I don't know what this is. And, it frightens me. I-". She wanted to keep going but she felt that her words were in vain. "Kras and Combat Racing will not be able to prevail the way it used to - when you're gone".

Here she was, trying to hide the real meaning behind her words. She knew she was doing an awful job of it. Before she could shame herself anymore, she nodded and closed the door behind her.

Razer stood motionless in his kitchen. He was speechless, his breath was swept away. Replaying everything that just happened didn't make any sense. She hated him, she shot him, then she kissed him? Truly, the woman needed help.

Her sweet smell still lingered behind in the air. Perhaps, he too, needed help.

His eyes stared at the box he was packing and the gun she had left on his floor. Things had become a lot more complicated than he had anticipated. The final race was tomorrow and it was up to him to accept a proposal that would steer his life in a completely different direction.

But why would he consider it? What was this 'thing' with her? How could he explain the leniency he's given her? How could he explain the towel to her bleeding neck and the split second in which he almost let himself fall into her touch? Surely, he had no such feelings.

He shook his head with a sigh. He couldn't seek any help for his deranged mind but the least he could do was get a smoke. Pulling a fresh cigarette from a new pack and placing it in between his lips, he grinned to himself.

_My curiosity of you has led me farther than I had ever hoped to get myself into…_

**-----------------------------------------------------------------**

**I 3 Torn and Jinx, best team ever.**

**Yes, Luv2Game, I am getting better with this comma thing. Maybe I'll get so good, I won't need a beta. Nah, I'm j/k. I'll always need a beta as long as I write things like 'kitchen round table' when I'm half asleep. Maybe I should start writing these anagram sentences like 'blue tile square' lol. j/k again. :P**


	14. Chapter 14 : Victory and Consequences

**Chapter 14**

"Hurry, father, it's going to start soon!"

"All right, all right, I'm coming, ey". A large man huffed his way up a set of stairs, although he had no reason to since he sat on a mobile device.

With a laugh, the young girl ran beside him, grabbing onto a small leash he had attached to the back of his device for her to hold on to. The stadium was crowded and it was easy to get lost.

"Look up there!" She shouted, large amber eyes glimmering at the sights around her. Her long braid fell down her back and swayed as she skipped down the aisles. She pointed at a blinking object in the sky, with colorful lights and words skimming across it.

"Yes, yes, you can see the scores up there later. Now calm down. You're going to kill your father early, ey".

Little Rayn paid him no mind. The atmosphere was loud, but the breeze on her silky cheeks was soft. The scent of buttered popcorn had her inhaling deeply to memorize the smell and a puff of pink caught her eye.

"Cotton candy!"

"Candy? Oh yes, yes, kids like you love that sweet stuff," Krew groaned and waved down the man to come in direction.

Three sticks of candy were handed over to her as her father handed the man some orbs. "All right now, we need to take our seats. I have a lot of money on this race and you're father wouldn't be very happy if he missed even the first lap".

Rayn nodded swiftly as she frolicked behind, her plaid uniform fastening to her legs as she ran. The floors were sticky and as they neared their specially reserved booth up front, a new aroma greeted her. It wasn't as pleasant as candy or popcorn, but she found herself getting used to it as she breathed.

She sat down readily beside her father, who sat by two burly, shady looking men. She was young and she never bothered to question things like who they were and why they were there. Seeing men with tattoos and missing teeth didn't disturb her and the more she grew used to seeing those kinds of men associated with her father, the less she bothered to care.

She was just happy that she was taken from school to go somewhere with her father. An occasion like that was rare.

"It's starting! Look". Rayn got up from her chair to press her hands to the protective glass on their private booth. The beginning announcements echoed around the stadium and a row of vehicles lined up at the starting line. They each roared with authority, smoke burning from eager tires. She could smell it clearly, although she was high enough to keep her from harm's way.

The smoke. The oil. The rubber. The dirt in the air. Other girls at school would've thought it was dirty and have cringed at the odors. She, on the other hand, found it all fascinating.

Her father was busy negotiating something with the two men. She found herself slightly irritated that she was being ignored. "Daddy!" Rayn stomped with demand, her slim fists tight on her waist.

"Yes, Rayn, what is it, child?"

"You said you were going to teach me things about this and here you are dilly-dallying about with these friends of yours".

"Don't worry, I didn't forget, ey. Just keep your eyes on the tracks".

Rayn huffed impatiently and did as her father told her. So this was Combat Racing. She was told it wasn't a popular sport just yet, but it was growing. With time, her father was sure he could invest well in it. For now, he'd stick to the races in Haven and smuggling goods.

The countdown began. Rayn's heart beat with anticipation. The lights went green and the masses of people screamed with excitement. Rayn waved her cotton candy in the air like flags as she cheered. She didn't know any of the drivers or whom she was supposed to cheer for.

A dark, sleek vehicle raced to the front. It was unrelenting, fearless and crashing it's sides into the other drivers to make it's way to victory. Missiles flew into the skies, whistling like fireworks and her eyes went wide. Clouds of smoke fogged the tracks and she gasped when she couldn't see the cars anymore.

Who was dead? Who survived? Who was going to win? Her heart stopped, then fluttered as the dark vehicle emerged safely from the smoke. She screeched for him although she had no idea what his name was. Tires screeched and cars flipped over. It all seemed like they were moving out of the way for this one driver.

"Who are you yelling for?" Her father asked, moving to see the object of her newfound affection. He dismissed the driver away with a slight gesture of his hand.

"Oh, him? He's young. I doubt he'll make it in the long run".

Rayn shook her head, watched him slow down steadily behind the few surviving drivers. "I'm afraid I have to disagree with you, father. That man is going to be famous one day".

"Racing is not all about fame, child. Take a lesson from your father, ey. And look, he's starting to lose".

Just then, Super Nova exploded up front, instantly making the drivers that were currently 'winning' in her father's eyes vanish in seconds. Rayn laughed deviously.

With a tongue at her father, she mocked, "You see, father. He wasn't losing. Super Nova automatically targets the first driver and he only slowed down to keep himself in the race".

Krew ruffled her hair, "Clever little girl, aren't you? Well, I knew that. I was just testing you, I say, it was a test".

Rayn rolled her eyes. She knew better. With her chin propped in her palms, she watched as he zoomed past the finish line. This was the final lap.

"I'm supposed to be teaching you things here. Oh, yes, here it comes".

Another driver sped next to the driver she was cheering for. Her father stood next to her, cheering for the opposite driver. Rayn shook her head. He was hopeless.

They both neared the finish line. The fans yelled; hearts all ceased at that moment as they watched. Their eyes glued to the two cars, edging against their wheels.

Her father cursed as he watched the driver he was rooting for go up in flames. It wasn't an explosion from another missile or a land mine. It must've been something that was implanted by an enemy racer.

Rayn sighed, "Oh well, that's unfortunate. He wasn't so bad, either". Just then Krew handed a suitcase to the two burly men and they nodded. They walked away with the exchange.

"Did you lose, father?"

"Somewhat. I betted that he'd get second place, not first. But either way, I won some and lost some".

"That's business for you," she said and the obese man shook his head. She was beyond her age, but perfect as his heiress.

"You shouldn't be so careless about business mistakes, you hear?" Her father warned.

"I know, I know. There's just no use in crying over spilt milk, that's all. Now are you going to teach me more?" She pleaded and he nodded. He began to fan himself, creating a whole drama act as he always did when things didn't go well for him.

Rayn turned just in time to see the winning driver emerge from his car. The race was over. The crowds cheered for him and he greeted them with a wave and a youthful grin. His hair was as black as his vehicle and his eyes flared with ambitions.

The ten-year-old girl sighed dreamily, "He's handsome".

"W-what? Handsome, you say? Aren't you a bit young for school-girl crushes? What are you now, eight?"

"Ten, father".

"Oh, yes, of course. Besides, if you want a stunning example of handsome, you don't need to look far. You're father is very handsome, ey, and I'm sure there are plenty of men I can arrange you with when you're older".

She made no comment, although she was slightly tempted. Her father was blind to himself, in looks and in weight, so what was the point? As for finding a suitor when she was older, she made a mental note to herself that she'd rather be in charge of that.

"Time's running short now, ey. We need to get going. I've got a meeting later tonight and tomorrow morning you need to take your ship back to your boarding school".

Rayn spun to meet her father with a disappointed expression. "Already? I've not even been here three days".

Krew nodded, floating away toward the exit and she followed. "I know, but you're father's a busy man. Someday, you'll understand. Now be a big girl, ey. I will show you as much as I can until next time".

Krew didn't see the pout on his daughter's face as they walked through the crowds leaving the stadiums. She held onto the leash on his device like a puppy being dragged. She didn't want to come to see her father just so she could learn business, but because he wanted her there.

Weren't fathers supposed to want their daughters there all the time and try to spend as much time together as they could? Shouldn't he be hugging her and telling her that it pained him that she had to leave. That he would miss her dearly and not to worry because it wouldn't be long until he arranged another trip for her. Unfortunately, it was just the opposite. The only thing she was needed for was to be an heiress to the Krew fortune.

As they passed through the crowds, she eyed the other people around her. Funny, she seemed to be the only child here. Everyone else looked shady or had shiny watches hanging from their suit pockets. They all glared at her, like she didn't belong. She hated that. One day, she'd show them all _exactly_ where she belonged.

Her father told her to wait outside as he floated into a room that read 'Staff Only'. He must've been finishing off his negotiations.

Her tall, slim body leaned against the wall. With another pout, she stared at her chest. Her body was being a bit stubborn to catch up with the other girls. The only thing that gave her beauty was the long hair shining down her back and her oddly colored eyes. She kept those eyes to the floor in a broken stare until a familiar face passed.

She looked up to meet the cold stare of the driver she was admiring not too long ago. He was probably in his early twenties. His face was one of a criminal, eyes written with an unbearable past and hands stained with unseen crimes. Still, a dull glimmer shone through his jaded eyes, a glimmer that showed that, he too, was human.

He didn't lift his cold stare from her and deciding that she would not back down, she kept hers on him, as well. She was not to be intimidated by anyone.

Then, within a moment, a smug grin formed on his face and he walked away. She stomped defiantly, wondering what was so damn amusing. Before she could ask, he had disappeared into the crowds.

It sort of made her sad to see him go. Now, here she was, bored again. She sighed, slowly letting herself sink onto the floor until she sat on her heels.

Just as her eyes began to close, a pair of feet stopped in front of her. She looked up to see the driver again, looking down at her skeptically. Instantly, she scooted up and brushed herself off. What was this, another stare down?

She was surprised when he pulled a red rose from the dozen he had hiding behind his back and leaned over to give it to her. "Come again, little one".

She blinked in awe and took it cautiously. A small crowd of women called for him down the hall, cooing for his presence. She guessed the other eleven flowers were for them. With a quick pat on her head, he walked away, wearing his confidence in his smile. As he let himself become devoured by the trail of fan girls, Rayn watched with heated cheeks and large eyes.

She got the first one. Of course, what was a flower? It would die in a few days and you couldn't really save it without losing its original beauty. But because of that small, simple gesture, it had made her short, rushed vacation worth it. That's what was supposed to make moments special. She didn't want books or lessons so that she could rule her father's business successfully. She wanted pointless, pretty objects that were a waste of money but would linger in her memories forever.

By the time her father flew out from the private room, he found his daughter in a dream like daze, staring down the hall at nothing at all.

"Where'd you find that?"

Rayn blinked, "Hmm? What? Oh, this. Found it".

Krew gave her a suspicious look, but dismissed it seeing that she was in a good mood now and would no longer pester him about a short vacation.

"Hurry along now. There's much to be done".

"Yes, father. Coming". With one last look behind her and another sigh, she followed behind her father's mobile device without complaint.

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Rayn woke up peacefully in the unfamiliar room, despite the events from the night before. The last Grand Prix was awaiting her team's victory later that afternoon and she felt her heart anticipate it from the moment she woke up. Yet, she didn't want to move an inch.

Deciding that she wasn't in the mood to return to a Krew property and that it was more convenient, she booked a room in Kras' most esteemed hotel. It was where many of the drivers and fans stayed from around the world, including her team. The hotel advertised the event all over, from the moving billboards to the posters in the elevators. They even sold tickets at the front desk.

She wanted to be away from things and since she really didn't have a place to call home, especially since her mansion was now a danger zone, she ended up here. She had thought too much last night, replaying events and regretting a lot of things before she exhausted herself to sleep on the large queen size bed.

Now she was awake, golden sun beaming through the shades and long billowing curtains. Her groggy eyes blinked and stared at the molding curling around the ceiling. What motivation did she have to get up today besides to win the race and take over Kras? None, really.

She closed her eyes with another lazy moment's meditation before forcing herself out of bed. Honestly, she didn't really want to. It felt awkward.

Rayn stepped into the bathroom of the large suite, making a beeline past the mirror to avoid looking at herself and questioning it. She felt like such an idiot. She kissed him! Heavens to Mar, she kissed him! And she rather liked it, too.

She shot him, told him she despised him numerous times, and then she kissed him. She couldn't even make sense of it herself. Now she understood why people always said there was a fine line between love and hate.

Waking up from such a distant dream, a figment of a long forgotten past, just made it more depressing. It was one of the few memories she was fond of, but it didn't put her current mood at ease. Now was not the time to be waking up from sweet dreams only to have a cruel reality afterwards.

Still, she was a powerful woman now. There were things that needed to be done, whether her head was on straight or not. She needed to pick up the antidotes, and give word to her team on Mizo's identity that she was sure had to be the person she was thinking of.

Blitz. It could be no other and it made the most sense. Even if, by some slim chance, it wasn't him, pointing Blitz out would draw Mizo out eventually. One way or another, today was the last race and she was sure Mizo wouldn't miss it for the world. He'd be close.

Danger would be close today. Lives would be on the line. Her team's, and her own. And it may also be the last day fans around the world, and herself, could bask in the glory of a racing legend. Razer.

It almost made tears tickle at her eyelids at the thought of it. She tried not to dwell on it. He wouldn't leave. He couldn't. Then again, the thing about Razer was that he was not a predictable man.

She hated that about him. He came and went as he pleased. Said what he pleased. Wrapped people around his fingers and wore them like a fashion statement. Flashed his arrogance in his smile as his tires burned the concrete, but as time wore on, the Krew princess was learning to admire some of these sides of him. Maybe even adore them.

Rayn shook her head and gasped with the splash of cold water on her face. No more thinking. No more distractions. Now was the time for the Krew Dynasty to rise to its power. Now was the time to win, and nothing, not even Razer, would get in her way.

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"All for one-" Jak cheered the others on, huddled around in a circle, hands in the center.

"And one right in the groin," Ashelin finished. That woman was cruel as always. It's a wonder why Torn would take certain things upon himself without her knowing. If it were up to her, she might give everyone 'one' in the groin at even the slightest suspicion.

"Let's make Mizo pay!" Rayn encouraged and their huddle was broken. With confident smiles, they parted and prepared to step out into the tracks. Less than a half hour left and it was time for drivers to start warming up their engines.

Everyone seemed ready to go. The antidotes were prepared. Her father's agent waited in the sidelines, ready to pass them over at her order. The crowds rumbled with chants. Announcements echoed over the screams. Today was the day, Mizo's rule would come to an end and her era would begin.

She should've been skipping to the startling line, humming a tune and frolicking in circles by now. Of course, it wasn't that easy for her. It was a shame. She wanted to be overjoyed by now and she did a great deal pretending she was, but deep down inside, she was just plain disappointed.

Anxious. Confused. And a part of her didn't even want the day to end, because the end of the day could mean the end of something else.

After changing into her racing gear, Rayn walked over to her vehicle with a sigh. Once again she made an all around check for any suspicious objects in or around it. It was clean. Mizo was probably too busy plucking his own hair out, burning to start the race and be rid of them all. It was too bad for him that he wouldn't get his way.

"Damn it, I need a wrench," Rayn whined. She wanted to tighten a few last things before she set out but she couldn't seem to find the damn toolbox anywhere. Finally realizing that she was running out of time, she decided to head down to the storage parts area and see if she could find one there.

As she stepped into the dusty crevices of the scraps hold, she coughed from the stuffy air. This was where all the scraps and junks were thrown for drivers who wanted to just come down here if they should need them. It was beneath the garage and the only light provided was the sunlight beaming from the high windows on the cold concrete walls.

Rayn cringed as her palm pressed against a damp, moldy wall. She brushed it off on her pants before stepping deeper and spotting a tall shelf full of tools. A bit rusted, but they would do.

"Ah, there we are," She whispered to herself as she tried to reach up and grab the wrench at the very top. Because of her lack of heels at the moment, she was just an inch too short to grab onto it.

"Precursors! Could my day get any worse?"

She strained and stretched, but to no avail. It wasn't until a familiar odor passed in the air that she stopped for a moment. Nicotine.

"The new Crime Lord of Kras is having trouble reaching for a wrench. My, my, what a surprise".

His voice instantly brought a smile on her face. Cocky attitude as always. Charming as ever. She shook her head, but didn't turn to face him.

"You never fail to irritate me, Razer".

"And you, never fail to stop running into me. Almost as if- you follow me".

"W-what? My word-" Rayn spun around with a stomp of her feet. She didn't even know he was in here and this time, unlike other times, she didn't come to him. Matter of fact she was hoping to avoid him. Of course she knew that she was lying to herself.

She shook her head again. He did that on purpose just to ruffle her mood. It amused him. He successfully made her turn to him although she promised herself she'd avoid his eyes. The man was a spell, no- a curse.

Razer shook his head, wearing his signature grin. The dim light made his expressions hard to read and his eyes hard to meet. Good. It was better for her.

He calmly brushed past her to reach up and get the wrench she had tried so hard to reach. Now standing beside her, he handed her the wrench without facing her.

Feeling his arm beside her, his presence so close, made her skin tighten. Her fingers grew numb and her palms moist. Why didn't anything bother him the way things bothered her? It only made her angry. Made her feel more juvenile. Made her feel even more stupid for having such stupid feelings that couldn't be returned.

She grabbed the wrench from him with the edge of her fingers. She hoped he could not tell that her hand was shaking. With a nod, she silently thanked him.

"I'll be going now".

Good. It was over. The farther away she was from him, the less it would hurt.

She was only a few steps away into more breathable air, before she felt a strong grip tighten and pull her roughly back from whence she came.

A chiming ring sounded with a spark as his knife met with her gunpoint between the both of them. They're bodies were close, they're weapons to each other's chins. They both smiled.

"Prepared? Good girl." Razer complimented before, he too, pulled out a pistol with his other hand. Now he had two weapons, and she had one, or so he thought.

Another ring sounded and a reflection below caught his attention. He looked down to see a blade sticking out from her boot, ready to strike his shin when necessary.

"Clever. I didn't expect that".

Rayn grinned deviously. That devious grin he had seen on her when he first took her to the restaurant and he awakened her power trip. That scheming grin of hers…made his hands itch.

"Oh? Do you like it? I attached them this morning". She tried to mask the intense moment between them. If they wanted to, this would be their chance to get rid of one or the other once and for all. But nothing was happening. Neither of them was making a move.

"Hmm," Razer dipped his head before cautiously putting away his knife, then his pistol. Her eyes watched his hands as they locked the safety and he slipped his blade inside his coat. Seeing that he posed no threat, another swift ring and her blades hid themselves back in her boots. She too, locked the safety on her gun and returned it inside her racing jacket.

Just as she was positioning the gun into place and her stomach winced at the contact of the cold metal against it, his grip attacked her once again. This time, it was for other reasons.

"What are you-"

Her babble was cut short by his lips on hers. Now this was something she had not expected. Her body froze, her eyes were wide.

What the hell was going on? What was he doing? What did this mean?

Although her mind erupted with questions, they quickly calmed into ashes as she melted into the embrace. This was what she wanted, wasn't it?

His tight grip on her arms relaxed and spread to her back. She joined with him accordingly, let herself savor a moment that was cut too short the night before. Was this a kiss farewell? Or a kiss that would lead to a new beginning?

She didn't know and truthfully, at that very moment, she didn't care. She grabbed his collar, taking in his strong scents of nicotine, sweat and masculinity. Deeper the kiss went, soft yet firm, his cologne entranced her. His arms kept her weak legs steady from falling.

He smelled so good. He felt so warm. His arms were safe. His kiss was a thrill. Her heart was racing, just as fast as any vehicle would on the tracks.

Razer tightened his grip on her curves, humming with approval as she clutched his collar. He brought a large hand to her jaw as he led them, led them to somewhere he still wasn't sure of. It was just instinct now. He couldn't deny it any longer.

This bold, clever woman, full of power and yet, so meek at times. Blushing and fumbling with her words and fingers one moment, then calling out her demands the next. He had to have her. He couldn't figure it out.

She was vivacious. Taking control when she needed to and yet still had so much to learn. He tried to turn away when she'd laugh, when her body was so close to his. He tried to act like she didn't faze him. Somehow she cracked his cold demeanor, his murderous intent, to find a man that wanted nothing more than her presence to grace him.

She was warm. She fit just right in his embrace. Her mouth was so sweet. Her face in his hand was supple. Everything about this woman left him breathless.

Their kiss, left them breathless. They parted slowly, stealing small kisses before they stopped and she leaned her forehead on his chin. He could sense it. She was still afraid that he was leaving.

They were silent for a moment, leaving only the soft thumps of their heartbeats in the atmosphere. His hand lifted her chin to him, her eyes to meet his emerald orbs, solemn and easy to fall into. There was no escape. He would not allow her to escape something he was already so deeply plunged into.

Before he could speak, the final announcements sounded. Ten minutes until starting time. She needed to get back up and do whatever she was planning to do with that wrench and he needed to get up to his Havoc.

He smiled and she leaned into his hand on her face. "You're right. Kras would never be the same if I left".

With that, he released her with a last lingering stare and made his way to the stairway with his hands in his pockets. Rayn stood standing there, still a little dazed.

"So, you've accepted my proposal?"

He stopped at the beginning of the steps. "Proposal? Hmm. Who said anything about agreeing to your proposal? I told you that I'd never take orders from you, didn't I?"

A loud clank sliding beside his feet turned his arrogant grin to the floor. She had thrown the wrench at him. Razer shook his head knowingly before finally making his way upstairs. He really enjoyed teasing her.

Once she was sure he was gone, Rayn laughed to herself. She was delirious. That man drove her crazy. And yet, she had to have him.

She hurried off to pick up the wrench she had thrown at him and climbed up the stairs. A race awaited her. Afterwards was victory. After victory, came a warmth she couldn't wait to bask herself in.

_Razer…_

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Watching Jak's vehicle speed past the finish line was a sweet sting. Relief swept over her like a bucket of cool water on a summer day. She expressed this with a heavy sigh that she must've been holding ever since the whole scheme of taking over Kras began.

Razer's Havoc had come up behind Jak's by a string of hair, literally. Rayn's heart almost jumped from her chest because it almost looked like he was actually going to pass Jak as the winner. And as much as she was enjoying this strange new 'thing' for him, letting him win the race would've been a big problem. He was still under Mizo's command and therefore Mizo would've won.

Shaking her head from any further and unnecessary thought process, the first thing she did was run to her father's agent and her team of scientists to get a hold of the antidotes. The screams from the crowds were deafening. She couldn't hear herself think straight. Confetti and streams of colors painted the skies. Fireworks shot off into the distance as billboards proudly blinked Jak's name all over the stadium.

Rayn beamed with pride almost as if her name was the one being globally announced and marked in history forever. Of course, it was her team and in the end, it was her that won the prize. As for the trophy, she didn't care much. What she had was bigger than that, a city, now in the palm of her hands along with Haven. Power and access to a sport that would have a fortune that the rest of her generation could prevail in for decades to come.

As the crowds hailed Jak's name, Rayn ran to fetch the antidotes from her father's agent on the sidelines. With a wide smile, she gave him her helmet and ran off to meet her team heading towards Pecker for the winning interview.

She discreetly unlocked the safety on her pistol. Mizo would be coming out now. She was sure of it.

"Rayn, what's going on?"

Jak must've sensed that something was slightly off. She had to hand it to the hero, sometime clueless at times, he knew when things weren't as flawless as they seemed.

"Relax, this whole thing was designed to flush Mizo out. As for the poison, don't worry, I've got the antidotes right here". Her eyes shifted around her, aware of her surroundings and waiting for him to show up.

"How could you know that Mizo would be close?" Ashelin questioned. She was tempted to tell her to go ask her Commander what he might know, but she already made an agreement with that Jinx fellow to keep that to herself, especially since he had grime on her and Razer to his use. She almost smiled at the thought of it, though.

"Father tried to eliminate Mizo for years, but he could never ID the man. Then we realized... There is no Mizo, or rather..."

Rayn's heart jumped. There he was! Storming over to them like a mad man from the penitentiary. It brought her great pleasure to put him in such a state.

"Out of my way! You broke the rules!" The blond raved, breaking between them. Rayn knew he was at his lowest point. Who knew what he was capable of now that he lost everything.

"Blitz?" Daxter yelled in surprise. They little ottsel hadn't caught onto it yet.

Just then, Blitz yanked off his toupee and cleared the confusion. He confirmed Rayn's suspicions all along. G.T. Blitz was Mizo.

"I'm Mizo! And losing the bet changes nothing! I'll crush your family and this whole city! No one else will ever know".

Rayn scoffed from behind them. She wanted to say, 'Family? I am my family and good luck finishing me with the pistol in my hem' but a very clever co-host beat her to countering Blitz's threat.

Pecker had recorded Mizo's confession to the entire world. "No one except for two hundred million viewers that is".

"What?!"

Rayn's smile grew. She couldn't help it. It was too amusing. Quickly, she shook her expression away. Perhaps spending so much time with a devious murderer was having an effect on her - not that she minded.

"Smile for the cameras, big boy! Every star has to fall, right Mizo?" Pecker taunted and the others grinned. Here was the notorious Mizo, now putty in their hands – or so they thought.

With an agonized growl, he snatched the antidotes from Rayn's hands. He had caught her off guard and she hadn't expected he'd do such a thing.

Screaming his last words of wishful death upon them, he sped away in his vehicle. Jak didn't hesitate to follow him. Finally the realization that Mizo had just took the antidotes from her hands hit her full force. Her ears burnt with newfound fury.

"Son of a-" Rayn ran to her vehicle, ready to hop in and trail after Mizo as the others looked on helplessly. Just as she was about to start her engine, a knowing glare caused her to look up.

Razer leaned against the brick walls leading into the garage, smoke curling from his evening cigarette. He was calm and unfazed, one hand in his pocket. The fact that he just lost the Championship race didn't seem to bother him as much as it did before. She had almost begun to wonder if he let Jak win that race. He eyed her dubiously as if seeing her very thoughts.

"Might I ask what you're planning to do?" The sun was beginning to set, causing a warm glow to cast over them.

Her jaw hung agape at such a ridiculous question. "What I'm going to do? Chase after Mizo, of course. What else?"

Razer nodded, tapping his fingertips along his arms. The crowds in the stadium were already emptying out for their buy of souvenirs before their trips home. Rayn's vehicle had been parked a good distance from the others and they were so caught up in the fact that Mizo literally had their lives in small vile like form in his hands, they hardly took notice of Rayn speaking with the bloody lusty racer known as Razer.

Razer lips blew another trail to the side, earning a flushed look from the woman staring from the vehicle. The way his lips pursed and his eyes closed as he relieved long, smooth white wisps of air. Her thoughts began to revive the warmth that she had felt before the race when those refined lips were on hers. Rayn shook her head abruptly. This was no time for this!

Razer gave her an amused look, flicking his cigarette away to her relief. "Why?"

"Why? Well, what do you mean, why?"

"Why dirty your hands? It is _their_ lives on the line, not yours".

"But what if Jak doesn't finish him off? I have to make sure Mizo is disposed of!"

"Trust me, if any one of those freaks care for their lives, they'll get him. If by some chance they don't, I _do_ owe Mizo for that break through my window the other night," he stated with a haughty expression.

Rayn shook her head with utter amazement. He really was a dirty player, letting others do their own bidding while he watched from the sidelines, manipulating lives as he saw fit. He was no savior, he was no hero and yet, she couldn't hold that against him. They lived in a world just as that, where not everyone could live lives so perfectly based on polished morals and committing to an image of a hero.

According to her records, even Jak had smudges in his past she was sure he wasn't proud of. The fact was, you had to do whatever you needed in order to survive. Razer did just that and so did she. That was what they shared. Maybe sometimes they wished things were easier, that others wouldn't get involved in such a way, but this was the game life handed to them. It was either be the best or lose.

She could see it in his eyes and understand why he was questioning her. Why dirty her hands when she had what it was that she wanted. Her part was done with. As cruel as it sounded, some things were better left for others to handle. Mizo was Jak's problem now and if he wanted to live, he'd be rid of Mizo and retrieve the antidotes.

Rayn leaned her chin on the steering wheel, pondering what to do while her worries consumed her. Razer took a few steps toward her vehicle.

"What is this? Crime Lord of Kras is soft for her drivers? My, my, what would your underlings think of you?"

Before he could walk away taunting her about her worries on Jak, she countered. "Why stop me from chasing after Mizo? Concerned for my safety, hmm?"

With that Razer snickered, before it escalated into a fully inflated laughter. Rayn only smiled as he walked off holding his abdomen from his fit of amusement and making a turn into the garage. With a sigh and her cheek pressed on her knuckles, she felt her heart flutter.

He was laughing now, but she knew better.

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Just as Razer predicted, Jak was sure to rid the world of Mizo once and for all. She made a short trip to the Bloody Hook to say goodbye to her team. After all, she did blackmail them into this although they didn't know it. By the time they shared a few words and a short embrace between her and Jak, she had purposely left behind her father's data pad - well a copy of it anyway, with one very important entry and nothing else. She wasn't that stupid.

A part of her wanted to leave them in their fantasy world where they had formed a friendship and gained each other's trust, but business was business and she just didn't feel right leaving them in the clouds. They would eventually find out sooner or later, thanks to Torn's 'sources'.

It was like she never breathed fresh air before when she left the bar. The day was bright and the breeze carried the salt from the ocean under the bridge. She wouldn't hesitate in getting this city organized, this city that was now hers.

"Call a meeting. I want every crime boss present. That's right... I'm running this town now. Father was too soft. No, don't eliminate the racers. They were my friends. Although probably not any longer. Ah well. Its just business," Rayn said carelessly to her father's agent over her cell.

A husky voice spoke on the other end, "And what about that head henchman of Mizo's, should he be disposed of, as well?"

Her vehicle halted at a red light. Rayn shook her head, "Who, Razer? Don't worry yourself over him. I have everything under control now. Just get that meeting arranged for me by tonight".

By the time she had driven to the outskirts of Kras, the sun had already almost hidden itself beneath the horizon. Bronze blanketed in dark hues of blue as the breeze grew chillier. Night was creeping in. The excitement after the final race was all over the city, from parades of people, balloons and replays on every moving billboard. It was a relief to be out where the people were few and the crowds had simmered.

Rayn had taken her time getting comfortable and prepared before the meeting. Her first stop was to take a shower and change into a more 'suitable' wardrobe for dirty and aged eyes to feast on while she took hold of their minds. It was a cheesy tactic, but it worked.

After that, she prepared a recording, replaying the events of the final race and Mizo's confession. Her last move was to gather her weapons in case things got ugly.

She drove toward the abandoned warehouse carelessly. Her head rested leisurely on her knuckles as her other hand held the steering wheel loosely. There was no need to worry about men jumping out at her from the bushes trying to kill her in the name of Mizo or bombs setting off inside her engine.

Mizo was gone and good riddance. Even his own would hardly miss him.

The few loyal that may be left living wouldn't have the guts to pull a stunt on her life, especially since she had some of the best on her side already. It was either they made themselves scarce from Kras or they joined her. Of course, if they wanted to make a living, and with being a criminal lacking many traits employees would find impressive, they'd have to choose the latter.

Finally she had arrived; the warehouse was quiet as usual. Most likely the men were awaiting her presence inside. Parking her vehicle in front and shutting the door behind her, she went up the steps with a chip on her shoulder.

Now was her time to shine. Everything she could ever want was now hers. Or so she thought.

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"So men, there it is, nice and clear. Just as I predicted, Blitz was in fact Mizo and I crushed him in these very fingers".

The seven men around the table were somewhat speechless. Of course she had known they had seen the race , but why resist the chance of gloating over her victory. Whether they liked it or not, she was the one with the power now. She had won the race and there would be no denying that she had lured Mizo out by his own insanity.

She tugged on her lower lip as she leaned on the table, chin on her knuckles. She could feel Lucien's heavy glare stinging her back but she didn't care. With the victory she had gained along with the city as her prize, his stinging glares tickled.

"Are you sure that Mizo is taken care of? Have you found a body?"

Rayn arched a brow, "A body? It was cooked along with whatever must be left of his vehicle. Only ashes remain of Mizo's dreadful body". She shooed the topic away like a worthless insect.

"Hmm, I see," the elderly man curled his gray beard in deep thought. It seemed they were all contemplating the idea that this Krew heir, this woman, was now superior to them.

The small moldy room fogged with cigar smoke. The ashtray in the middle of the table flickered with dying embers. The atmosphere was stuffy and awkward.

Rayn cleared her throat, "Ahem. Well, now that that's over with, I have new plans to discuss. There's lots to be done and much to be improved".

She set a filing folder on the table but before she could continue, Lucien raised a finger. "Actually, there is still one problem".

"Hmm? And what might that be?"

Her confident smile soon faded once she set her eyes on Lucien's deceitful expression. It was obvious he had something up his sleeve, something that she probably wouldn't like. Her heart beat in anticipation. Every lord's attention was on him now.

"Your father had discussed with us some time ago, before his death of course, of a plan to dispose of Mizo's top man, Razer. We can't assume that just because Mizo is gone for good that Razer won't prove problematic for us".

A drop of sweat slithered its way down her brow. Funny, she hadn't realized how hot it was until now. Swallowing some moisture into her dry, scratchy throat, she replied coolly, " Oh, I wouldn't worry too much on him. What danger is a man without a boss to be loyal to and no benefits? What good would it do for him to vent his revenge on any of us?"

"He knows too much either way. He can't be left living unless he's under our authority," Lucien challenged. His large hands overlapped in front of him, flesh on his knuckles white from the growing intensity in the room.

"And whatever he knows, won't benefit him in any way unless it's in the form of orbs. Plus, rumor has it that the retired racer has vanished after the race. Maybe starting anew somewhere, which would be wise, would it not?"

Murmuring spurred between the others around her until others began making their protests heard. "He's right, Ms. Krew. He may be harmless now, but can we really take such a risk?"

"He's a very dangerous man. For all we know, he's wiring explosives under our vehicles this very moment".

She almost wanted to scream, 'No, he's not! He wouldn't do that! It's not in his ways, anyway'. But of course, her lips stood pinched between her teeth.

Rayn took a deep breath, pausing to pin her long hair on top of her head. She successfully managed to distract at least half of her audience, but it wasn't enough.

"Really, I don't see what the fuss is about. If anything, leave it to me, I'll take care of it".

Lucien shook his head. She fought back the cringe tugging at the corner of her mouth. Nothing would please her more than the sight of her heel in his face right about now. He was doing this on purpose and she knew it. Somehow, there must've been some way that he found out. He must know something, something about her and Razer. And now the bastard was using it to his advantage.

Lucien calmed everyone around him with the wave of his hands. Rayn rested her palms on the table, awaiting what he'd say next. Her eyes squeezed, staring at the way his mustache twitched and his sly smile formed.

"Don't you worry yourself, Ms. Krew. You won't have to take care of him…"

Rayn sighed, a split second of relief sweeping over her until she realized he wasn't quite done with what he was saying.

Like a true beast intimidating its prey, he flashed his teeth. Her nails clawed the wood in reaction, fear now brewing inside her. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

"Right about now, I have some men already on the task. I hope his racing is as good as its bragged, because if it's not, he should be dead in less than an hour".

"What?" Rayn gasped, hands slamming on the table unwillingly. She caught them off guard, earning them all to jump in their seats from her abrupt reaction.

"You heard me, Rayn. Razer will be joining Mizo momentarily. It is what you and your father wanted, is it not?"

She didn't realize it, but her jaw was hanging in shock, palm slapped on her forehead. How could she have been so careless? The diary entry had stated it not too long ago, the plan her father had to be rid of Razer when she was done with him. Her father had already made arrangements with the other Gang Lords. How did she forget this?

No- back then it was different. Back then she really didn't care, but now…she couldn't. She wouldn't let them!

Panic seized her and before she could run out the door without another thought, a very familiar click echoed in the back of her head, cold metal stabbing her skull.

Lucien's greasy tone itched along the crook of her neck.

"This time, dear, I brought a gun of my own".

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**Well guys, it's sad but the next chap will be the last. I'll also include a bonus epilogue chap so please look forward to it. This story is a lot of fun for me. I'll def miss it. **


	15. Chapter 15 : A New Era

**Last chap everyone. Enjoy.**

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**Chapter 15**

"What the fu-"

Razer cursed as his Havoc skidded, tires burning around the tight street corner. Streams of smoke trailed behind his raging wheels, headlights flashing with warning. His vehicle became an animal. Roaring its power through the city of Kras to make its presence known to all. Razer's legend as a racer was not at all exaggerated.

The night grew silent, the stars being the only witness to what was happening down below. His engine rumbled. Razer gripped the steering wheel. Knuckles were white and his heart beat with anticipation, with adrenaline.

His eyes shifted down the streets, squinting at the suspicious shadows growing and nearing him. The alleys were dark, and the cold breeze was unmerciful. These cowards had waited until he reached a remote area to attack him. The thought brought a sadistic smile to his face. It only gave him more room to rage across the roads and introduce them to their demise.

Headlights brightened over the horizon and smoke fogged over the vehicles. There had to have been a good five or six of them. Razer spat out the cigarette in his mouth to turn back to the drivers now facing him.

Faster than the blink of an eye, Razer yanked his gears, shifting his vehicle into a sharp turn that led him back on the road ahead. The engines and missiles sounding behind him alerted that they were close behind.

Streams of lights crossed the skies, aiming their ugly heads at his vehicle and one by one he managed to avoid them. Razer shook his head, tapping the gauge beside his steering wheel. The race earlier had sucked up most of his Blue Eco supply.

Just then, two vehicles clamped his Havoc between the both of them. Sparks stung his cheeks as their steel grinded against his side doors. With a furious howl, he reached into his glove compartment and grabbed his pistol. Unlocking the safety, his first shots rang across his enemies, successfully pulling one critically injured driver into hell after he drove off into a deep ditch.

The other driver backed off with caution, managing to escape Razer's intent to shoot them in the head. The other drivers were catching up. His fist stomped against levers and buttons, releasing Red Eco mines and oil onto the concrete behind him. Flames heating his back caused Razer to nod with satisfaction.

There were a lot of them, but he could deal with them. At least, he could deal with them enough to _survive_. He could've easily disposed of them in seconds if it hadn't been for the fact that he had used his Super Novas for the race earlier. It also wouldn't be too long before his vehicle slowed down once his Blue Eco ran out.

"Damn it! What the hell is going on here, you twits!" Razer grabbed for his radio, questioning the men with the obvious intent to get rid of him.

A familiar, robotic voice sounded on the other end. One that only made him grow even more furious. His ears grew hot at the sound.

"UR-86! You're supposed to be under my command! What the hell are you doing? And what are you doing alive?"

The voice could barely respond. Last he knew, Jak had a hand in blowing the android to bits, not much of a deadly racer left afterwards. Razer hadn't stuck around much to find out what had become of UR's scraps but now it seemed that someone had modified him. Horribly modified him, but enough to control the robot and get it to kill him.

"You miserable bag of bolts, I knew I should've never trusted anything that wasn't human!"

Razer was just about to throw his radio out of the car in his anger before another voice answered for the impaired robot. "It's an order, Razer".

"An order?" He snatched the radio receiver back up, wincing at the voice because once again it was familiar, but this time he couldn't quite recognize it. "Is this- Cutter, you idiot!"

The voice laughed on the other end, "So you haven't forgotten me, Razer? I'm sure you haven't forgotten when you left me for dead".

Razer grinned with amusement, "How could I forget something that was so much fun for me?"

As planned, this only set Cutter off into a barrage of curses over the radio. Razer continued to drive, Cutter's voice yelling beside his seat.

Razer was finding Cutter's rambling entertaining until the line went dead. For a moment, he thought Cutter had tired himself out and finally shut his trap. It wasn't until he heard his laughter on the other line that Razer eyed the radio receiver. Had he gone mad?

"It's all right, Razer. I'm glad you find this so amusing because it was under Krew's orders that we dispose of you".

An explosion branched off into a fiery circle that Razer quickly drove through before his Havoc could catch too much damage. Already the rubber on his tires were beginning to wear. Fate was not siding with him. That bastard called fate.

"What the _fuck_ are you talking about?"

Cutter laughed again, his voice becoming clearer, signaling that his vehicle was closing in on his Havoc. "You heard me, Razer. By order of the new Crime Lord of Kras, Rayn Krew has ordered that we rid the city of your despicable presence".

Cutter had said that so smoothly, like a glass of milk down his throat. Razer clenched his teeth, picturing what that piece of wood must've looked like in his driver's seat, so amused with him. Salt spread in his mouth, the taste of his own blood as he bit on his bottom lip in anger.

Razer's eyes went wild. His dark hair disheveled and looking at the road differently from the way he was looking at it moments ago. There was once a time when he had transformed in a way such as this. The night when his sister had died, he just wanted to destroy the world and all those that took it from him.

That Razer was back and as his eyes flared at his soon to be victims, one spiteful thought passed through his mind.

_Rayn, I'm going to kill you for this…_

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"What is the meaning of this, Lucien?" Rayn hissed through her tightened jaw.

Slick fingers curled their way to the pit of her stomach where her juices were churning from the dangerous predicament she now found herself in. All the other men in the room watched. They had the least influence amongst them and knew they needed a leader that would maintain their slimy ways of life. It was painfully obvious that they didn't care whether it was her or Lucien that would lead them. Or rather, they may have preferred Lucien, since he was a man. Still, his funds would eventually run out and without money, you were nothing.

She was helpless. Neither her toned legs nor her glossy hair could rescue her with this one. Her hands shook. She attempted to reach for her pistol buried within the hem of her pants but realized she was doomed when she felt frozen fingers grip her hand away from her waist.

"I don't think you'll be using that, Ms. Krew" He shushed her nervous whimper as he slid his fingertips under the end of her blouse. Lingering his touch a bit too long for her liking she cringed, but knew she could do nothing about it. The gun stabbing her skull from behind reminded her of that.

With a satisfied grin crossing his features, he spread his fingers along the hem of her pants until he came in contact with her pistol. It took every ounce of effort for Rayn not to go spinning around and aiming her fist at his groin, willingly taking Ashelin's advice.

Her body ached from trying not to tremble, but she stood still.

_Stay calm, Rayn. Stay calm. You can get out of this. Think. Think…_

Rayn continued to chastise herself mentally until she realized that his grip around her waist had not been released. Did he have other plans in mind? She hoped to Mar that he didn't.

She winced at the pistol on her head, pinned against her harder. Lucien pried it into her, whispering threats into her ears that she tuned out from the growing cut now bleeding from his gun. Tears threatened to spill, but her last bit of pride kept her face straight and her eyes dry.

"You know, Ms Krew. I've always had some sort of- liking to you. Maybe there _is_ a chance that we can put our differences aside and make this work, hmm?"

Her fists tightened, "Make this work, huh? I'd like to see how that's possible after you've threatened my life".

Lucien laughed behind her, his mustache twitching. "Well, if you're willing, I'll make my offer".

Rayn had no choice but to agree with a strained nod. His mustache came tickling against her earlobe. Her head turned away on instinct but the pistol pushing her skull again made her turn back. It hurt. Any further and she was sure he'd cut a hole in her head without needing any bullets.

Lucien's husky voice rumbled in her ear. "Become my cute, little wife and give me all that is yours".

She gagged on the vomit bubbling in the back of her throat. With a cough, she spat "I'd rather die".

Lucien laughed behind her. She could almost hear him smile. With his greasy tone itching along her neck again, he whispered…

"That- can be arranged…"

It was only a moment when she heard the clear echo of his safety unlock behind her head and what would soon be a bullet sounding.

All she saw afterwards- was her own blood.

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"Damn blood!" Razer cursed, one eye closed because of the new wound now leaking down his brow. It wasn't that deep of a cut, compared to the one in his bicep, anyway. A chunk of glass wedged itself in his arm and with a deep yelp, he was able to drive and pull it out at the same time.

Now he was getting frustrated. He got rid of all of them except for UR-86 and Cutter. They trailed behind him stubbornly. His Blue Eco had long run out. Now he was running on normal gas and wishful thinking.

He tried to occupy his mind with all the possible ways to get himself out of this with most of his limbs intact. His anger just continued to grow the more he thought about it. If it hadn't been for the race, for the Super Novas he had used, for the Eco he had used, for the woman he had let his guard down from, he wouldn't be having such difficulty with something that he would've easily handled had it been different. It pissed him off. Beyond pissed him off.

The only thing that flashed through his mind was her face. So innocent and so meek she was, and to think he handed her the rope to hang him with earlier today.

It only fed his will to survive. He wanted to see her. He wanted to pay her back ten-fold. He wanted to- to-

"Boss, you still in one piece?"

Razer's thoughts were interrupted by someone new over the radio. Thankfully he hadn't thrown it out of the car yet. "What the hell do you want? I'm kind of busy at the moment".

Shiv's voice on the other end stood firm, although he could sense his amusement. It was rare to see Razer lose his suave persona. Right now he wasn't the smooth glider who graced ladies so easily on his arm. Right now he was mad, animalistic and hungry for the blood of his enemies.

"I'll get you a new pack after this is over with," Edje promised as their vehicles appeared on the road as though spawned by magic. From nothing they showed up. To help him? He had no idea why. There was no such thing as friendships in a business like theirs. Only loyalty, but that was rare.

"Sorry we're late, boss," Shiv yelled over his windshield as they drove behind Razer's Havoc. Well, at least _some_ people favored him…

"We'll try to hold them off!" Edje yelled, blocking their two enemies closing in from behind in attempt to get near Razer.

"I don't need any help! I'm fine on my own! Aren't you under _her_ orders anyway?" Razer advised. Even close to death, his pride would let him die.

Shiv shook his head, "We couldn't let you have all the fun, Razer. As for the little Krew girl, I'd much rather follow you".

Razer released a haughty laugh. Follow him? Hah! That was all he needed. Some fan boy minions who'd trail behind his legend like puppies.

Bullets ricocheted off Razer's back bumper, Shiv and Edje ducking their heads behind. Quickly they swerved, sending their vehicles in 180's, firing shots back at Cutter and UR-86.

It was wild fire on the roads. Signs splattering across the dirt, tires staining the floors, branches catching onto their flames. Distracted by Edje and Shiv, Cutter and UR-86 soon fell behind.

With a determined look on his face, Razer hit the gas at full throttle. This was his chance to get away from them. At this range, he could use his last two missiles to damage them just enough to stop the chase. Then he'd deal with them outside the car. He knew for sure they were no match against him face to face, wounded arm or not.

Just as he felt relief spread over him and was sure his plan would fall into place, his heart stopped. His gauges went haywire, flashing and signaling that danger was coming.

If they were any birds in the sky or if the sound of screeching tires were still close to him, he ceased to hear it in that very moment. The world grew mute when he realized what was coming.

Maybe he had used his Super Novas, but it seemed that they had saved one just for him…

His Havoc spun around in hopes that he could somehow escape the deadly blow and drive back in their direction. It would hit whoever was facing farthest down the road and if only he could drive past one of them… He knew he wouldn't have had the time.

The target was locked and it would only be seconds before the Nova was launched. This was it. The end of his legend. He swore in what would be his last breath that he'd haunt them for the rest of his afterlife.

Eyes winced at the oncoming vehicles flying towards him. Shiv and Edje shared a look of panic. They knew there was nothing they could do at that distance.

If fate somehow harbored pity for him, it showed at that moment. All his life, fate had toyed with him, taken what was precious to him. Maybe fate had decided to turn over a new leaf because he never expected what it was about to hand to him.

A fragile, feminine figure ran out into the middle of the road. It was only a few seconds, he was sure, but it all happened as if the world had stopped just for her.

With her legs apart and her stance determined, her pistol fired straight ahead. He heard Cutter's cry over his radio and he watched in awe as Cutter spun out of control. Spinning and rolling over, she continued to shoot without mercy, without a second thought.

He had never seen this in her before. So cold, so blood thirsty. Without a single twitch, she walked ahead calmly; continuing to fire until Cutter's vehicle had transformed into a fiery abyss which no one could've survived. UR-86 helplessly tried to escape the deadly trap, but it was too late. The android had been caught in her sadistic gaze.

She reloaded and more shots fired. Sparking off the steel of his armor at first until wires began to pluck out and his car was also sent to the same fate Cutter had suffered. Fire hailed into the darkness. Clouds seemed to spread at her arrival. She didn't turn to him. She didn't move.

All he could make out was the heavy rise and fall of her shoulders. Her clothing was tattered and the hand gripping the pistol, he was sure was trembling.

Razer shook his head and before Shiv and Edje could react to what was happening, Razer reversed and began driving away. With a heavy sigh, he drove off, leaving the fire and his burdens behind.

Rayn finally had the courage to turn around. Honestly, she had no idea what came over her. From the throbbing pain in the back of her head and her blurry vision, she had no idea where such accuracy came from when she shot. She had no idea where these guts came from, as if she had made friends with death and owned it.

Her legs were locked in place and now that it was over, she felt small again. Her world was turned upside down once more. Now staring at the fire burning the carcasses of her enemies, her emotions threatened to overwhelm her.

She turned to look down the road. She hoped to see him there, to see his face. She hoped that image of him would ease this feeling she was having. But he wasn't there anymore; his Havoc was now nothing but a speck dissolving down the road.

Her gun fell to the concrete and her shoulders shook. She was exhausted. Mentally and physically and there would be no warmth to greet her afterwards.

She gripped her injured shoulder from her escape with death earlier and tried to pay no mind to the aching wound in the back of her head. Right now, her head was throbbing from other things. She chewed on her lip to avoid the cry that wanted to make her mouth quiver. Where was he going? Was he ever coming back? Had he really thought she had meant to kill him? Well, yes, at one time she did, but things were different now, weren't they? Would he see it that way?

She hadn't realized her surroundings too well because Shiv and Edje's presence surprised her enough to make her jump a bit. She gasped but then relaxed as she saw they had meant no harm. A look of sympathy passed across their criminal ridden eyes. Had they seen it too? That she hadn't meant for this to happen?

"Is he ever coming back?" She questioned with a broken whisper. She was afraid of the answer but she had to know.

Shiv shook his head, "I dunno, Krew girl. I really don't know".

His head continued to shake as he hopped back into his vehicle and slowly drove on ahead. Edje lingered a moment to glance at the woman standing helplessly in the middle of some unnamed highway.

"It's a shame to have him go like that. Just isn't right, ya know?"

Rayn nodded in defeat. When she once thought criminals and murderers were just sick aliens who weren't people, she took back that stereotype when she felt Edje shake her shoulder.

"Well he shouldn't be too far off. It wouldn't be wise to let a driver like him go to waste. What's a good Crime Lord without good drivers on her team?"

A newfound hope blossomed inside her. She almost beamed. "Yes, you're right. It won't benefit the business at all if I don't know his whereabouts".

She watched as Edje followed Shiv and they disappeared. He was right. Razer couldn't have gone that far. She _had_ to find him. The problem was where would she start?

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The first place she went to was the only place she knew of. She passed the Bloody Hook and the streets marked for the Kras races on the way. Nothing. When she finally arrived at his loft, there was no sign of him either, but there had to be a clue inside.

She was disappointed to find the door locked and the spare key had been removed. Tapping her chin for a moment's thought, she made her way out back where she had found the broken window he had yet to fix from the assassin's break in.

With some agonizing effort and another scrape on her knee, she was able to crawl into his loft. Upon landing, the atmosphere felt awkward. Sun was beginning to stream in through the windows from a new day, reflecting against furniture that had looked touched by a spirit who had vanished without explanation. His drinking mug was still on the coffee table, a ring of moisture around where it sat. She was sure if she looked inside, there might've been a drop or two of coffee still in it.

She observed his refrigerator; only a pint of orange juice and some random items were in the door. A newspaper lay flat on the kitchen counter, open on the article written about the Championship race before it began. Rayn sighed. Running her fingers along the edges of everything she passed, she could almost see him still there.

Passing his bathroom on the main floor, there was still clothing in the hamper. She was sure if she'd grab one of his towels, they would have his strong, yet comforting smell on it. She resisted the urge to grab one and bring it to her cheek to indulge in his scent. It made her eyes burn. His presence was all over his home but he felt so far.

She stepped up the spiral staircase to his bedroom. His sheets were ruffled from waking up the previous morning. She silently wondered what it would've been like up waking up in that same bed as him. Under the black and gray quilt, wrapped in his embrace. She could almost see his routine.

He had gotten up, groggily and irritated she imagined, before making his way to his private bathroom across his bedroom. He probably dragged himself into the shower first to wake him up, running his thick fingers through his long black hair. With a towel draped around his waist and one around his neck like the day she had caught him out of the shower, he'd brush his teeth with that blue toothbrush and examine his stubble in the mirror before a moment's shave. There was still a blob or two of shaving cream on the sink's porcelain. Most likely he had set his coffee to brew, black and pure, before he went to dress and returned to the newspaper in the kitchen. It must've been quiet, peaceful, and maybe even slightly lonesome.

If she were there, would his mornings be different? Would he stay in bed longer and would there be coffee brewing for two because he knew just how she liked it? Perhaps they would lean against the kitchen counter together, her leaning on his shoulder still sleepy as she read the newspaper along with him. He'd be wide-awake already and tease that such a powerful woman should be able to wake up without a fuss. Then she'd get angry, stomp her foot before she'd give him a lazy smile. Razer would shake his head at her, amused by her as always and she wouldn't complain.

It was such a nice mental picture…

Rayn sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing her temples impatiently. Her head was beginning to spin from her lack of rest, possibly lack of blood from her head injury. She pondered the odds of suffering from a mild concussion. Her shoulder sagged lazily; crimson marked the burn from her shoulder blade over toward her bosom.

Would he ever come back here? Somehow she found it unlikely since he had originally packed to go elsewhere. Those boxes and suitcases were probably with him in his Havoc right now.

Finding the strength to pull herself away from the upstairs rooms, she decided to head to his garage through the laundry room. Of course she had never seen so much of his loft but with most homes, you can guess more or less where all the rooms were. She turned the knob to what had to be his garage and her eyes widened with what she found.

Her jaw dropped in awe. She had expected an old, dusty wooden room with tools hanging from the walls. Instead she had found a modern showroom in where he probably tended to his vehicles. It was breath taking.

She had wondered why there weren't many photos or awards inside his loft and it was because they were all here. Shelves of golden Championship trophies lined along the walls protected by glass. Embroidered frames of all sizes speckled the room with awards, certificates, photos, and newspaper cut outs. It was like a Razer museum.

Two other Havocs, earlier versions and now classics were kept polished and up to date, parked across from each other in this large room. Skid marks on the floor showed where his newest vehicle had left this morning. Rayn ran to the walls, her hands pressed against the glass showcases like a child at the zoo. She knew Razer would kill her had he seen she was getting her fingerprints everywhere but she didn't care.

Records of his success went more than a decade back. Headlines read, 'A new mysterious driver on the Rise', 'Prince of the Roads', 'Flaming across tracks around the World'…his

Legacy was a great one. She saw his young face, when he was her age, beaming as he accepted his first winnings. Roses raining from the sky, he looked oddly familiar but nothing seemed to pinch her memory.

One frame caught her eye. Paired with a picture and a newspaper cutout, she realized it was where he had won his first Grand Prix Championship Race. Years ago, not many cities were willing to reserve their streets for the sport that wasn't as popular just yet so the tracks had been made in closed areas of stadium size. As the sport expanded, it was only then that drivers were able to skid along city streets with permission.

It was an old track, one outside of Kras that was probably no longer used unless by amateurs who wanted some practice. There he was, waving to the newspaper photographers with a younger version of his signature grin. He stood next to the men giving him the trophy and what looked like a younger version of G.T. Blitz holding a microphone for Razer's comment. Little had people known back then that the cocky blond would turn out to be the biggest, baddest Crime Lord behind all of the winnings and people Like Razer.

Still, she chose to believe- or rather she knew- that Razer would've made it big with or without Mizo. That was why even Mizo feared him.

From the glowing, prideful expression on Razer's face, she smiled. She hoped to see that expression of his more often. It was sad that the life he lived would make such a wonderful expression fade. She vowed to bring it back.

Rayn made her decision. She had to find that track. Judging from the size of the frame and how it was the most centered in the room, this frame had to hold a special place for him. Maybe she'd find him there.

With a new spark of hope ignited, she ran out to fulfill her mission.

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The sun didn't do much for Razer's grogginess. It had been a long time since he remembered ever being this tired. The blood on his wounds had long dried into dark, crimson streams along his skin and the breeze put his pain at ease.

He wasn't a stranger to pain and therefore barely paid any mind to the tight bandages he had wrapped around his arm. The only thing that was irritating him was that he was on his last cigarette. At a time like this, he wished he had a brand new pack.

He had been here for a few hours, replaying the events of the past two months or so. Mostly replaying what looked like Rayn but couldn't possible be her, throwing herself head first into death's lair and shooting her victims mercilessly. Her accuracy while aiming her pistol at each of her victims were flawless and enough to even rival his skill.

He didn't really know how to feel about his situation. A part of him wanted to leave Kras as he planned. A part of him resisted for reasons he still denied to himself. He was angry, felt betrayed and at the same time, felt some of his pride had been taken. He tried to decipher his moments with the Krew girl, remembering their final moment before the race and wondered if she was genuine about what she felt. He wondered what it was that he felt and if he should even bother. At this point, the racer, the criminal and the man in him just wanted to be left alone.

With a heavy sigh, Razer sat against an old bleacher. They were rusted from the weather and lack of care. Only amateurs used this old track but it was one of his favorite spots for when he wanted to be away. At times he'd circle his Havoc on the dusty roads, reminiscing on the memories from years past. If he closed his eyes hard enough, he could see the flowers raining down from fans, hear their cheer as he made his mark in history.

Just as sleep was about to take him away, footsteps caught his attention. By how meek they were and cautious about approaching him, he already knew who it was. He kept his eyes closed.

He felt her presence freeze, unsure of her next move and sensed her fear. Out of pity, and not wanting to feel her stare on him any longer, he opened his eyes and stood up. He hadn't bothered to meet her gaze. Instead he slid his hands into his pockets and looked on ahead.

Rayn saw his jaw tighten. His eyes were cold. Was he angry with her? Was he wishing she'd walk away forever? Was he weighing his options on killing her? She couldn't tell.

It was strange. There were so many things she wanted to say to him and now that she was here in front of him, nothing came to mind. She almost wanted to throw herself into him but she knew the situation was too delicate for a move so daring.

"Razer, I-" Her words choked inside her throat.

A hand lifted and gestured that she not waste her time in explaining. He still didn't spare her a look into his eyes. An awkward pause passed between them and she felt ashamed. She felt like she deserved everything that was happening to her. She didn't blame him for being angry or even wanting to kill her now.

She had dazed out for a minute before she heard his blade switch open and he yanked her wrist to him. Shoving the blade into her hand, he placed it against his throat. His chin up and a frightening expression on his face, he threatened, "If you're going to kill me, at least have the decency to do it with your own hands!"

Rayn's lip quivered. Her eyes met his icy glare and it didn't soften for even a second. She tried to pull away, but he kept his painful grip on her hand, tightening around his blade. Did he still think she wanted to kill him? Was he testing her? Was he scolding her?

With a disgusted look, he threw her hand away and snatched back his weapon. "Coward…" he spat before resuming to his stiff position.

Rayn just stared, appalled and once again feeling small next to him. She turned away and tried not to look at his face. It was then she noticed the blood stained bandages around his arm. She reached out without thinking and he caught her hand.

"It's none of your concern," and once again, he discarded her like yesterday's trash.

Finally she lost it, "It's not what you think! This wasn't supposed to happen…" Her words weakened and faded. He didn't seem to heed her pleas.

Her shoulders shook with the sobs she was holding in. Her pride wouldn't let her, because whether or not she had Razer, she'd still be Crime Lord of Kras. She shouldn't shed emotion for such insignificant things.

Razer observed her as she stared at her feet. She had shrunk in his presence with shame. Her shoulders shook and her amber eyes trembled. This wasn't the way a woman who wanted to kill him should behave. Maybe, just maybe…

Just as Rayn was about to turn and walk away defeated, he pulled her by the arm. His grip on her was gentler, but she hadn't taken notice. Instead she hissed in pain because of the stretch in her sore shoulder. She thought he was going to scold her and lower her self-esteem some more, but she was wrong.

He didn't turn her to face him. Instead he leaned her back to his chest and his fingers went to string along the loose strands of blood clotted hair that led to a wound on the back of her skull. From the shape of the wound, it was from a pistol that was forced against her.

Rayn felt her cheeks flush and tears finally escaped the corners of her eyes when she felt her head sting at his touch. He whispered in a deep and solemn tone, "Who did this to you?"

Rayn shook her head and responded, "I don't want to talk about it right now".

She heard some movement and then felt soft comfort as she felt his fingers wrapping white gauze around her head and shoulder to cover her wounds. It must've been left over from the injuries he had tended to on himself. She felt like a child, letting him care for her bruises while she sobbed inwardly. Finally she discarded her remaining pride and spun around to bury herself against his chest.

He was taken back by the gesture but did not reject it. Razer stood there motionless, unsure of what to do and if this was what he _wanted_ to do. He felt her weight sinking into him and the moisture from her muffled cries. By the redness in her eyes when she first showed up, she must've been exhausted.

His hands itched until he could take it no longer. He lifted his arms slowly and painfully to hold her against him. This only encouraged her sobs and he allowed it. Soon they sank back on the bleachers, sitting by each other as she fell into him. It wasn't very long until they had both fallen into deep sleep.

When Rayn opened her eyes again, the throbbing in her head made her groan. It took her a moment to realize that she was still in Razer's embrace. He was already awake and the sky above them was growing gloomier. His coat was draped over her curves folded into him. She didn't move in fear of losing the warmth.

Rayn looked up from his chest, admiring the strong curve in his pale jaw, shaded in stubble. His emerald eyes glowed in the simmering sunlight despite the dark bags beginning to sag beneath them and his solemn expression drew her in. Above his brow was a thin slash that could've been anything from a flying piece of steel scratching him to glass shattered against his face. Beneath her ear was the steady heartbeat that she was sure was racing hours ago.

All of a sudden, everything caught up with her. Everything that happened and what was happening right now, it all overwhelmed her. She clawed his shirt feeling her vision blurring again, pulling herself closer to his safe hold.

"I thought- you were never coming back," she whispered.

He didn't look down at her. Looking ahead, smooth and deep, he replied, "It was a thought…"

Rayn shook her head, marvelling at the bandages on his arm, freely running her fingers along the edges. It was the same arm he had scarred from the barbwire years ago. She wondered what it was that caused this injury. Injuries that were her fault and, had she thought things through and planned accordingly, injuries that could've been prevented.

"Is it still a thought?"

Razer tipped his head to the side, lips pulling into his cheek as he meditated on the question. "Hmm. Possibly".

He was keeping his answers short and vague. His pride was still intact and it would be difficult to unwind him. To his surprise, Rayn pulled herself up, reaching for his face.

Her hopeful eyes met his, pleading that he give her a better answer and all her regrets for what she did was written in her gaze. When he didn't answer right away, she pressed forward, bringing them into a soft kiss.

It was full of appreciation. Full of want and full of her pleas. He didn't bother to answer since he was a man of so few words when it came to things like this. Instead he responded by pressing his lips on her more fervently and leading the hands on his face to his neck instead.

As they drew apart, he asked, "How did you escape?"

She smiled, "The blades in my boots came in handy".

Razer tapped her chin with his fingertip, "I knew you were a clever girl. I have to say, I was impressed with your aim with pistols. I'd like to see more of your weapon skills in the future, although hand guns are not in my top preferences".

"And that you will - if I get a proper tour of the showroom in your loft". He spun to her with a surprised look and she turned away shyly. "I may have taken a peek in there".

"May have? And I suppose you thought I'd be at this stadium from pure instinct?"

"Of course," She teased, folding her arms confidently.

Razer shook his head at her. His black hair was messy, strands falling lazily over his eyes. She didn't hesitate in brushing them away. Little by little, she was growing more comfortable with the knife-wielding death racer and she rather liked his slightly intimidating presence. It made her blood hot.

With new second long thoughts that flashed through her mind and the heat in her cheeks, Razer took notice of her sudden uncomfortable expression. It only inspired him to tease her more as he brought his breath to her neck, "You're sources must've been very reliable. I do, in fact, have a weakness for women…"

She gasped delightfully, "Women? Is that the only reason you agreed to help me after you pinned me against a wall and gave me a death threat?"

"Not at all, milady. My taste is a bit more exquisite, so I wouldn't have aided just any woman. A Crime Lord in the making though, was too tempting to resist".

Her fingers curled along his chin. She felt her body tighten with new sensations from such a dangerous man wrapping around only her. It made her feel even mightier and more confident in her long reigning success over Kras. No one would be able to come against the both of them.

"So does that mean you'll call me boss from now on, Razer? Or should I say wife?"

Razer huffed a laugh. "Don't push it".

He sealed their deal, their lifelong contract and the beginning of the most prevailing duo in all of history with another kiss to her lips.

From then on, Kras would never be the same. A new legend and a new era had begun.

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**Well, last chap sort of. There will be an epilogue because there are still questions left unanswered and I've done that on purpose. Look forward to it. **

**I love that scene with the 'Have the decency to kill me with your own hands' thing too. It's so kewl…I watch too many movies, but hey! It comes in handy. **


	16. Chapter 16 : Epilogue: To Greatness

**Last chap, for real this time.**

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**Epilogue:**

Lucien stared blankly at the zeroes on the documents laid in front of him. The clock rang the hours rather loudly, ticking away every second as it plucked his patience.

His nose itched every time he thought too much. His mustache would follow with a twitch and the same vein would zigzag itself from the side of his brow.

With a frustrated sigh, he unclamped his tightened fists and brought his fingers to his temples. It was all her fault. Everything was her fault. _She_ made sure to keep his funds limited ever since he had crossed the line with her only seven months ago. Those months felt like long, torturous years for him.

Elbows propped on his desk, he felt his collar choking around his neck. The pressure was unnerving. Making a living under that woman in Kras was hell. Well, it was for him anyway. He supposed he deserved it for jamming a gun into her head and attempting to kill her, which unfortunately for him, resulted in an unexpected surprise when a blade from her boot came kicking up into his knee cap.

It pained him to replay that crucial point in his life inside his overwrought mind. If only he hadn't been thinking of keeping his suit clean and avoiding a fresh coat of brains on his face, if only he hadn't given her that second's worth of time when he stepped back…She wouldn't have had the chance to dodge his shot that ended up grazing her shoulder instead.

Now here she was, ever since that day, gloating all over Kras City with her power while he struggled to get by with only a cane to keep him from staggering over whenever the stocks went up in her favor. The other Lords at their meetings fell face first into her deceit at the bat of her eyelashes and the twist of her hips. She employed all the thugs left in Kras under Mizo. She dominated the races after somehow convincing that cold, smug, suave criminal to get off retirement for her. How she did it, he would never know.

Lucien slammed his palm against the wood beneath it. He swore being a woman did have its advantages.

Not wanting to dwell on his financial dilemmas any longer, Lucien pushed himself off his chair and kicked it aside. With a frustrated growl, he reached for his polished cane and limped his way outside his office and into the warehouse.

He was met by two of his goons with timid looks on their faces and as soon as he saw the way their gazes shifted with fear at his presence, he knew something was wrong.

"What do you mean the shipment didn't come in yet? Can't you buffoons do anything right?"

The two men shrunk beneath the ominous presence in command. His mustache twitched with anger and his gray eyes turned to ice.

Lucien slammed his cane against a pile of storage boxes full of illegal weapons and goods. "I don't understand why I employ idiots like you!"

"We're sorry, boss! We'll be sure to find out who's responsible and take care of it," one said in hopes that they'd escape his scolding.

"We_ need_ that shipment. If our vehicles don't have the latest weaponry, you can say goodbye to our chances in the Grand Prix".

Lucien was fuming, and if it were possible, smoke would've erupted from his ears. With nothing else left to say, he slammed his cane against something again.

"Damn that Krew woman. I hate her!" The two criminals widened their eyes and stepped back. They knew when he starting spouting anything to do with the Krew family, he'd take it out on anyone or anything that crossed him.

"Well? What are you doing? Get out of my sight!" He roared and the two didn't waste time in obeying. They scattered away and Lucien paused to hold his forehead. With a deep sigh, he tried to calm down.

Time. In time, he told himself, he could try again. There had to be someone out there that detested that woman as much as he did. There had to be some way to be rid of her.

He constantly promised to himself that when he had enough money and acquired enough fame, he'd orchestrate another plan to get rid of her and knock her off that golden pedestal she was so comfortable on. This promise was his only comfort through his treacherous life.

The stench of dust and Eco made his eyes water. He needed fresh air. He needed to get away from these dim-witted fools working under him that couldn't even get a job right.

Fumbling with the keys in his auburn suit pocket, he made his way outside. The air on his face was a relief. He only wished it weren't Kras air since he felt that Ms. Krew had poisoned everything since she took over. Everywhere he looked, everywhere he went, her territory was marked.

It was impossible to escape her and slowly her influence was beginning to spread to Haven, successfully gaining back her father's territory as well. Haven's government ignored her, as long as she didn't pose a threat to the well being of the city and it's civilians. People were wrapped around her fingers and Lucien was not one to be worn as some ornament.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he approached his expensive vehicle. It was a classic Javelin from a good decade back. The silver trims glimmered in the sun like new and the navy blue paint never faded in his care. He smiled. At least his car gave him happiness.

He huffed out in relief as he settled into the driver's seat. The scent of leather aroused him and he sat back a moment just to appreciate it. He looked over to the side where a newspaper clip was posted upon his dashboard. He grinned deviously at the female face in the photo.

"Don't worry, Ms. Krew. Your time will come and your glory will be short lived…"

Starting his engine and hearing it purr lifted his spirits. Maybe he'd actually show up for a race today instead of watching it on T.V. Maybe he'd go for a drive afterwards, far off from Kras City. The possibilities of indulgence brightened his day further and he began to drive off with the intention of getting to the tracks.

The sun glared in his eyes and before he could drive much further, he reached to pull down the sun visor.

It was then that his gray eyes widened. His hands shook with fear. It was a message that he failed to take notice of before he had started his engine.

Panic seized his heart and he immediately began stomping on his brakes. It was too late. It wasn't stopping and his vehicle was only going faster.

He tried to pull the door handles, find some way of escape from this death trap. The doors were jammed and wouldn't open. He fisted the steering wheel, kicked the gas and brake pedals to no avail. His speed increased and he yanked the wheel in hopes to turn away from the upcoming ditch leading straight down into a boggy, carnivore infested swamp.

Nothing would save him from this fate. Moments flashed through his mind, desperately trying to figure out why this was happening and how. With a deafening screech, he went mad inside his car that would, in seconds, become his tomb.

Kicking, screaming and cursing to the heavens, one face came to mind. Except it wasn't the face of the Krew princess. No. Instead- it was the face of the man he had struck a deal with barely a month ago.

Unfortunately for him, he had signed over his life to the devil unknowingly…

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Rayn gasped in awe as she watched the blue Javelin drive its way off the dirt-paved roads and down into a ditch. Her amber eyes were wide and her fingers clamped over her mouth in shock. She blinked and shifted her body into the man she was sitting on.

"T-tell me you didn't!" Rayn shook her head, speechless as she turned to face Razer, who was wearing a smug expression.

Razer cleared his throat, effortlessly flaunting his satisfied expression as he watched Rayn stare off into the empty spot in which Lucien had disappeared. Her fingers were now on the window of the limousine, like a child trying to look further into the wilderness for animals.

"Is-is he?" She pointed and Razer nodded. He didn't seem a tad phased by it, as if this was an everyday occurrence. Well, it was, but she had never been there to really witness one of his plans in action before.

She sat silent for a moment with a blank expression. Razer waited as his arm draped around her waist on his lap. He reached for two wine glasses and just before he could hand her one, she reacted.

"Oh, Razer-" she enticed charmingly, curling her fingers deviously to his face and bringing it to hers for a kiss of gratitude. "You shouldn't have…"

She clapped her hands together like a child once again and asked with a burst of excitement. "How- I mean why-"

Razer flashed her his look of pride as he began to explain. Meanwhile, he poured the both of them a glass of red wine.

"About a month ago, the man thought he could strike a deal with me. Lucien was still under the impression that I thought you were sent to kill me and the only reason why I was employed by you was because I had nowhere else to go".

"A deal? What deal?" Rayn cringed, her voice hissing through her clenched teeth from the thought of it.

"Why, your life, of course. He wanted me to take it and since I was closest to you in the business, he thought I would when I had the chance".

"That grotesque slime-" She contained her anger and brightened again, "And then what? You left a message in his vehicle? What did it say?"

She bounced on his lap and Razer couldn't contain his amusement. Rayn was usually so dominant and serious as she directed the business in the city. Yet, when something went right or he surprised her with something like this, she'd giggle with glee, forgetting her superior image. She still looked up to him, yearning for his wisdom and fascinated by his tactics and ideals. He really adored that part of her.

Without another word aloud, he brought his lips to her ear to reveal the message's contents. Rayn smiled deviously as she listened. Lucien hadn't seen it coming.

After Rayn gained power over Kras City, she found another way for Razer to keep his previous fortune and still maintain his image. The marriage fraud was discarded and instead, after Mizo's death, it was rumored that he left behind a will. The will was of course a counterfeit, and it stated that Mizo's control over the wages won by the racers would be awarded to the racers that earned them. Therefore all the funds that Razer had a hand in building up, returned to him for keeps.

To make the will more believable, it would only make sense that if Mizo thought something should happen to him, that he'd hand the position over to his second in command which would be Razer. However, since the position had already gained competition because of Rayn winning the bet in the races, the story that was fed to the Lords was that they made an alliance.

The Krew heiress was in need of Razer's racing capabilities and it benefited her because most of the men who were participating in the races chose to follow under Razer's command. To bring them to her team, she'd have to create this agreement with him. Razer would find it in his best interest to strike this cooperation with her in order to keep his fame on the rise and because she currently had the business skills to keep everything under control.

If anyone had thought Mizo's will or the alliance to be a scandal, no one objected and opposed the two powers now ruling over Kras. The Lords separated and returned to their individual industries after Mizo's death and accepted the Superior's positions. The only thing kept secret was the fact that Razer wasn't only Rayn's best racer and partner in business, but that he was her right hand man and their business was one in the same. The only men that knew the real meaning behind the agreement was a few loyal men under their command.

The Lords thought that they were separate Superiors only using one another for their benefits. After the failed attempt to dispose of Razer, they feared trying to overpower him again. Lucien thought Razer joined up with Rayn unwillingly to continue his racing and keep the business going. Despite whether criminals and Lords liked each other or not, good business usually came first.

Since Lucien was spared the detail of Razer finding out that he was behind his assassination attempt on the roads that day and that Rayn had been getting closer to the racer on a level he hadn't know of before it occurred, he was kept under the impression that this contract would work. He believed that Razer would agree in getting rid of the Krew princess to gain full power because of his grudge. Since Razer lacked the patience in commanding a city's worth of ruffians along with all the business responsibilities and images he'd have to maintain, he'd easily hand over the position to Lucien.

However, Lucien was wrong. Dead wrong. When he spoke of this contract with the famed racer, he hadn't known he was practically singing his sins to the Krew heiress himself. Of course, Razer kept it to himself for his own amusement and chose such a tactic to come and surprise Rayn with.

He had thought of getting rid of the con with his own hands, but such a vile existence wasn't worth the honor of his blade. Instead he chose to deal with it this way and Rayn could watch from the sidelines and praise him for finally getting rid of the snake. Razer didn't mind. Although it was revenge for trying to kill him first, in a way he owed Lucien for the wounds he inflicted on his lover, now partner in disguise.

On the day they had made the contract, Lucien made a comment. He said killing Rayn was just part of good business. Razer, at the time, played along and agreed.

That was the message written on the sun visor in Lucien's vehicle. 'Its just good business', except it was signed with the Krew family's crest. One glance was enough to make Lucien realize that Razer and Rayn were cooperative with each other willingly and intimately enough for Razer to share such details with her. Details that he'd agree to kill a man for her. It all came together in his final moments and then it was too late. The swamp would welcome Lucien's vehicle into demise.

Wine glasses clinked together as Rayn shared a mischievous laugh with Razer. It was brilliant and she enjoyed every second of it.

"Why, Razer, I had no idea you had such a side to you. Going off to kill men in my name is very noble".

Razer almost spit out his wine and set his glass aside so he wouldn't drop it. She liked to tease him, try to get him to confess these things to her and he'd return the favor by playing it off as if it had nothing to do with her.

"Hmm, you think I did it for you? This was simply my response after he tried to dispose of me".

Rayn pouted, setting her glass down as well and crossing her arms stubbornly. "Really, now? Is that so? Well since it wasn't for me, I guess you won't be rewarded for your deeds…"

Rayn laughed as he tackled her onto the leather seat. His heavy presence hovered over her and he crossed gazes with her. It was enough for her to understand his intentions.

"My, my, if you keep up this behavior, I may have to rethink our alliance. I can't align power with someone who stares at me with such perverse intentions," her actions did not follow her words. She beckoned him with her hands through his slick hair and he grinned knowingly.

Razer dipped his head into the crook of her neck, inhaling the sweet scents radiating off her skin. He felt her fingers twitch nervously, clinging onto his coat collar and he was proud that he always had that affect on her. Now being the dominant one, he lifted himself to whisper other things to her. Confessions he never said aloud and something about wondrous things.

Rayn's smile grew as she called over his shoulder. "Driver!"

"Hmm? Yes, Ms. Krew!" The driver snapped back into reality as he rolled down the center window slightly. He was told to always tune himself out of their conversations because he knew it would only bring him trouble if he heard too much. Being silent and loyal to nature of their secret relationship, he was kept as their permanent driver whenever they needed a limousine. He was already used to the duo.

"Out! Take the vehicle over there behind the warehouse. I gave you the keys earlier, didn't I?" Rayn always kept a spare vehicle hidden by the warehouses where meetings were kept if she should ever need them. It wasn't a problem. She could afford such a luxury.

"Yes mam," the young brunette answered with a nod to the rear view mirror.

"Very well. Drive it back to the properties and feel free to take the rest of the day off," she waved him off, trying to keep her voice firm despite Razer now pressing soft tempting kisses beneath her ear.

Without question the driver got out of the black limousine hidden in the bushes away from sight. Rayn finally let her body shudder in Razer's arms and as soon as the door slammed, signaling the driver's retreat, Razer mocked.

"Were you under the impression that you were the higher figure in our alliance? Hmm, I'm afraid I'll have to prove you wrong…"

As the driver approached the other vehicle, he shook his head. He was glad he never crossed the two of them. If only people knew the schemes such masterminds came up with. If only people knew how deadly of a pair they were. He had seen that car drive off into a ditch and he knew the consequences.

He didn't have any complaints though. The pay was good and his loyalty well rewarded. The races were booming all year round and Kras was the city everyone wanted to be in. There could be no two better leaders than the two of them.

Just as he turned the key in the ignition, he heard a trail of devious laughter erupt from the limousine he had left behind as if to agree with his very thoughts.

The driver drove off into the horizon, heading to the brightest, most bustling business cities in the world… There could be none other leading Kras to greatness, other than Rayn and Razer themselves. It would be that way for a long time to come.

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**Hope it was as fun for you as it was for me. Thank you to all my reviewers and readers that took the time to enjoy this story with me. This story will be one of my faves and I hope you continue to support the RazerxRayn pairing. Later everyone, until next time.**

**Next story is my second AxelxTifa multi-chap fic. Look forward to it coming within a month's time.**


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